


A Thing or Two About Being Human

by LadyWallace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas has a pet cat, Cas is living in the bunker, Cas learns about human things, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Human Cas AU, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Sam and Dean are good brothers, Season 9 AU, Sick Cas, Slash Free, Some Season 5, domestic stuff, human cas, maybe a teeny bit of angst sometimes, mild Cas whump, no gadreel, pets in the bunker, series of One-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2018-12-12 18:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 79,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11742267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWallace/pseuds/LadyWallace
Summary: Sam and Dean teach Cas about human things. Humor/friendship fic, Series of One-shots all seasons, no slash





	1. Cas Gets Sick

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long series of one-shots. Most of them are set in S9 in an AU I created where essentially there is no Gadreel and Cas is living in the bunker with Sam and Dean and there's just family feels and fluff and no angst :P 
> 
> Most of these stories were from requests I got from people on FF.net, some of them are for my own amusement. Feel free to leave me requests you might have! I can't promise to write all of them, but I love to hear you ideas all the same ^_^

Castiel was still getting used to the feeling of being completely human. It wasn't the same as when he had fallen previously, for without his grace, he wasn't even angel by default, and was forced to deal with all the issues humans lived with on a daily basis, and had learned to deal with since they were born. He had to learn them himself, and it was taking a lot of work. Even the simplicity of such things as sleep, eating and bodily functions were giving him troubles.

And then there was sickness. Of course, when it happened, Cas didn't even know he was sick at all. In fact, he thought something was terribly wrong when he woke up in the middle of the night feeling very uncomfortable. Had he done something catastrophically wrong with his human body? But no, he had seen Sam and Dean abuse theirs far worse on more than one occasion, and he hadn't done anything to his recollection that could cause such harm. He hadn't over-eaten. He hadn't drunk anything, nor was he wounded. He had only felt a little tired and sore that day, and particularly heavy when he crashed in bed early that night.

He woke feeling suffocated in his blankets, his body hot and hurting, yet when he threw the blankets aside, he shivered. His head also ached horribly and felt fuzzy, confused. Something was dripping from his nose and with fear gripping his stomach—which also felt bad—he wondered if it was blood. He struggled to sit up and turn his lamp on to better see. But when he wiped his hand under his nose and inspected what was there, he found it was worse that blood.

Horrified that he might have some horrible curse put on him, he lurched from off his bed and fought just to get his footing. His head spun and his stomach rolled and he had to lean against the door before he could leave the room. He then stumbled across the hall to Dean's room.

Dean started up in bed as the door opened and watched with surprise as Cas came staggering in, a look of fear on his face, his hand held under his nose.

"Cas, you okay, dude?" Dean asked, wiping a hand over his face and getting out of bed to put a steadying hand on Castiel's shoulder to see what was wrong, surprised when Cas gripped his t-shirt and looked up at him earnestly. "What's wrong with your nose?" He reached out to pull Cas' hand away, but the former angel jerked back, nearly losing his balance, causing Dean to have to steady him.

"Dean, I think I've been cursed," he said urgently. "My brain is leaking out my nose!"

"What?" Dean asked. "Your brain's not leaking out, Cas, brains don't do that."

"But I can't think, and my head hurts and this…substance is coming out my nose!" Cas cried, pulling his hand back for just an instant to show Dean what he had found earlier but quickly replaced it.

To his surprise and annoyance, Dean just laughed, patting Castiel on the shoulder.

"I don't see what's funny, Dean, I might be dying!" Cas said, his muffled voice only making Dean laugh harder in its seriousness. "Everything hurts and I'm burning from the inside out."

"Ah, Cas," Dean said, trying to smother his grin, shaking his head. "You've just got a cold, man. It's just snot and fever, not your brains leaking. Although it probably does feel like that. You'll be fine. We'll just get you some medicine."

Castiel felt relief seep through him. So he hadn't been cursed. That was good news at least, even if it didn't make him feel any better physically. But Dean seemed to know what he needed, and he was willing to trust him.

"Come to the study, I'll settle you on the couch," Dean said, taking his elbow to guide him out of the room.

They were only out in the hall when Castiel began to feel another odd sensation he wasn't accustomed to. He stopped Dean by tugging his shirt and the hunter turned to him expectantly, frowning at the strange look on his face.

"What?"

"I-I feel strange, Dean…I—" then before he could stop himself, he threw up all over the hunter.

Dean closed his eyes with a long-suffering sigh born of many years of caring for a sick younger brother. "Better?"

"Sorry, Dean," Cas said quietly.

"It's okay, Cas. Let's just get you taken care of."

~~~~~~~

A few minutes later Dean had settled Cas onto the couch with a bucket, a box of tissues and a thermometer in his mouth…after he had cleaned up the barf and changed his clothes, that is. He found the medicine he needed and went back out to Cas who was huddled miserably in a corner of the couch, the thermometer beeping as soon as Dean got there.

"You're running 101," he said, sitting on the coffee table so he could face Cas.

"Is that bad?" Castiel asked.

"It doesn't feel good, but it's not dangerous," Dean assured him and picked up a bottle of pink liquid. "Okay, first things first, Pepto will help settle your stomach." He handed Cas a little plastic cup and the former angel took it hesitantly, the sight of the syrupy liquid making his stomach turn again.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yep, I need to make sure you can hold the other medicine down before we throw it in there."

Castiel drank the medicine and nearly gagged but somehow managed not to throw up again. Dean took the cup back from him and handed him a glass of water.

"Just sip it," he cautioned.

Sam appeared in the room then, looking half asleep, and trying to flatten his extreme bedhead. "What's going on?"

"Cas has gotten his first flu," Dean announced with a proud smile as if it were some great accomplishment. He patted the former angel's knee as Cas groaned, glaring at him. "Why don't you keep him company, Sammy, while I get him a few more things."

Sam sat down on the couch with Cas and offered him a smile. "How are you doing?" he asked sympathetically.

Castiel shrugged and sniffed grossly, self-consciously putting a hand to his nose again. "I don't like it," he admitted.

Sam took pity on him and reached over to hand him a tissue. "No one does. It sucks being sick. Here, try and blow your nose, you'll be able to breathe better then."

Castiel made several poor attempts but finally managed to blow a really disgusting concoction from his nose that nearly made him vomit again. "Humans are very disgusting at times, Sam," he said, then hoped he hadn't offended the hunter.

Sam laughed though. "Yeah, we are. Especially when we're sick. Dean and I will help you through it though. And trust me, you are a way better invalid than Dean. You should see him when he's sick. He moans and groans as if he were on death's door."

"I heard that, Sammy," Dean growled as he came back with a pillow and a washcloth. He wrapped an arm around Castiel's shoulders to settle him back against the pillow. Cas winced, even that movement hurt, his body was so sensitive, but once he lay back on the soft pillow, he felt a little better and Dean placed the washcloth over his forehead. The coolness surprised Cas but it felt so good, he closed his eyes with a moan, settling back even more.

"Better?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded and Dean went back to the kitchen, returning with a soda and some saltines.

"Try a few of these," Dean urged. "It will help settle your stomach."

Cas reluctantly nibbled a cracker, not wanting to eat at all, everything tasting strange and muffled from his nose. But after a few crackers and several sips of the soda, his stomach did feel better, even if the rest of him didn't.

"I think we can try the Tylenol now," Dean told him, pulling open another bottle of medicine and shaking out a couple pills. "You'll have to swallow them, Cas, and don't chew them."

Cas groaned in protest as Dean forced the pills into his hand, and held the glass of water ready, but he took them readily, knowing that if Dean said they would make him better then they probably would.

Once he had swallowed them, he closed his eyes again, while Dean washed the sweat off his face with the washcloth before returning it to his forehead. "I don't feel any better, Dean."

"It won't happen instantly," Dean told him. "We'll check your temperature again in an hour or so."

"I don't understand, Dean," Cas mumbled. "How did I get sick?"

"Oh, any number of ways. You never know what you pick up in public places."

"Also," Sam added, "how many times do you wash your hands after being out, Cas? You never had to do it before because angels don't get human sickness, but now you'll have to make sure you do. If a sick person touched something you could have easily picked it up if you didn't wash your hands afterward. And since you're not used to it all, your immune system is probably pretty bad right now."

"Oh," Castiel said with a sigh. "I suppose I have many things to learn."

"Don't sweat it, Cas," Dean told him with a smile. "Being human sucks most of the time, not gonna lie. There's nothing easy about it, even when you've been human all your life."

"At least I have you two to teach me," Cas said with a small smile, cracking his eyes open to look at his two friends, his brothers, who always made sure to look out for him, as he returned the favor.

"Yeah, but let's not turn this into a chick flick moment," Dean said, uncomfortable. "How about we watch a movie so you can rest?"

Castiel nodded and while Dean started the movie, he closed his eyes, feeling a bit better, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep, feeling safe with the Winchesters there to look out for him. He knew he would have to learn the ins and outs of being human, but he didn't think he would mind it so much either. Certainly those two had gotten on well enough. So could he. It was much better than having to figure it out on his own, and chick flick moment or not, he would always be utterly grateful to Dean and Sam for taking him in even when he thought himself useless and proving him wrong.

He knew he was very fortunate to have a family like that.

 


	2. Cas Does the Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place in Season 5

It was rare, but sometimes the Winchesters actually did get a day off from fighting evil and trying to stop the apocalypse. Sometimes, they took those days to relax and other times they had to use them to do chores. When they were at Bobby's that usually meant Sam would bury himself in books and Dean would tinker with the Impala, but when they were on the road, there were other things to be seen to, such as cleaning their weapons and doing laundry. And not just washing monster—and their own—blood off their clothes in the motel bathtub, but actually doing a proper wash so they could enter society without frightening off women and children with their stench.

One of these days, Castiel happened to be with the brothers in their hotel room and decided to accompany them to the laundry mat, always interested to see the inner workings of human existence, even something so mundane as washing clothes. Dean shrugged when he relayed this to him, and they drove down the street to the laundry mat.

Sam went to pick up some supplies at the Quick Mart down the block and Dean grabbed the bag of dirty clothes out of the trunk. Castiel followed him inside.

"Okay, Cas," Dean said as he set the bag beside one of the machines and opened the lid. "You seem interested in this, so let me show you how you use one of these. You might need to know someday, even though you just seem to be able to mojo your clothes back into off the rack cleanliness." He cast a reproachful look at the trench coat, and Castiel ran his hands over it almost protectively. He had actually come to be rather fond of it.

"First things, first," Dean said, grabbing the bag of clothes. "The most important thing to remember is to separate whites and colors. I know that sounds all Martha Stewart, but you don't want to end up with funky colored whites because you washed them with all the colored clothes. So we put one set in one washer and the other in another."

Castiel watched him as he sorted the clothes. A kid who was sitting on a chair on the other side of the room waiting for her mom watched them curiously, giving Castiel an odd look. He tried to smile at her but she still watched him suspiciously.

"You'll need quarters to run it," Dean told him, fishing in his pocket for money. "Just stick as many as will fit into the slots and push it in."

"After that, you start the washer by turning this knob and put the soap in," Dean said, showing him a carton that he opened, and poured the blue syrupy contents into the cap. "About one cup full will do." He poured it in and bubbles began to form. Then he closed the washer and did the same with the whites.

"Then we just wait until they're done," Dean said and went to sit down on a bench, shuffling through the magazines and wrinkling his nose at the choices.

"What then?" Castiel asked.

"You have to dry them."

Castiel watched the people go about their business, doing washes and folding clothes into neat, or not so neat piles. Dean showed him how to work the dryer, which didn't have as many steps as the washer and also apparently didn't need the clothing separated. When they were done, Cas wondered whether he should help Dean fold the clothes, but the hunter just shoved everything back into the bag, without bothering.

"Come on, let's go get Sam and find something to eat, I'm starving!" Dean told him.

It was several weeks later that Castiel decided to use some of this new knowledge for good. They had just completed a hunt that had taken them several days to figure out, and Sam and Dean had both been bashed around quite a bit. Castiel had helped see to their wounds and they were now resting in the motel room, trying to gain a little of the sleep they had lost over the last few days. Castiel had planned on having food for them when they woke up, but he didn't want it to get cold either, so he looked around for something else he could do to pass the time. He knew Dean didn't really like it when he sat and waited for them to wake up, watching them sleep. He didn't really understand the problem, only wanting to keep an eye out for trouble, but Dean had some very strange quirks that Castiel wasn't sure he would ever figure out.

Then he remembered seeing a laundry mat across the street and decided he would take their clothes for a wash. He was sure he could remember what Dean had shown him, and then it was one more thing that the brothers wouldn't have to do. He gathered the clothing strewn everywhere and put it into the bag with the other dirty clothes and flew across the street, appearing at the door of the laundry mat. It was late in the afternoon and there were only a few other people there. He tried to look natural, like a normal human going about normal business. He selected a washing machine and dumped the clothes into it, trying to remember what was next. He reached for the quarters in his pocket that he had taken from the motel table and pushed them into the slot before he turned the knob on the machine which made the water go in. He was satisfied that he had remembered that and then found the soap and poured a cup in.

He waited for the wash to finish, feeling good that he had actually accomplished a simple human task without apparent catastrophe. It really was a stupid thing to feel accomplished about, and rather sad when he thought about it. This was all he could do after he had once been a full-powered angel. Laundry excited him. He had certainly fallen very far.

The wash ended, pulling him from his melancholy thoughts and he grabbed the wet clothes and put them into the dryer, digging out more quarters. He waited that out too, watching the other people in the place, washing and folding clothes. When the load was finally done, he pulled the warm clothing out of the dryer and set it on a table, deciding he would fold it, figuring Sam would be impressed, even if Dean didn't care.

However, as he began to lay out the clothes, he realized that he had made a grave mistake, forgetting the most important thing Dean had taught him.

He held up a t-shirt that had been white, but was now a light pink.

It seemed his enthusiasm had been premature. All of the white clothes, t-shirts, underwear and even the white parts in the plaid button-downs were pink. Sam and Dean were not going to be happy about this.

Castiel sighed and threw all the clothes back into the bag and appeared a second later in the motel room.

Dean woke to Cas standing over him with a pained expression on his face and a pile of something in his arms.

"Dude, what, I haven't gotten my four hours yet," he slurred, wincing as he sat up.

Castiel held out the pile and tumbled it into Dean's lap. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I was just trying to help but I seem to have made a mistake."

Dean frowned, sorting through the pile and grabbing a pair of his underwear, holding it up for closer inspection. "What the…Cas, did you wash this?"

"Yes Dean," Castiel said as if he were doomed for the gallows. "With the darks. I forgot."

Dean was fighting the urge to laugh, even though he was kinda ticked that his clothes were pink. "Dude, now I'm gonna have to wear pink underwear."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel said again but Dean reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his coat.

"Hey, Cas, it's okay, we've all done it once. No big deal. I'll just throw all of these into Sam's bag," he grinned and Castiel felt a little better, knowing that Dean wasn't mad at him.

"It was nice of you to wash our stuff though," Dean added. "Next time, just remember to separate the whites and darks."

"I will," Cas told him.

When Sam woke, and they were getting ready to leave, he opened his bag and groaned. "Dude, what happened? Why are my clothes pink? EW! And why are your underwear in here!"

"I don't know, Sam, it wasn't me," Dean called, winking at Cas.

Castiel couldn't help a small smile. Dean could use all the amusement he could get, even if it came at his brother's expense and because of the angel's mistake.

"Come on, Samantha," Dean called. "Let's hit the road!"

Sam grumbled as he zipped up his bag and Cas followed him and Dean out of the room.

"Coming Cas?" Dean asked him.

Castiel confirmed and got into the back of the Impala, feeling at home. Glad that he could be with people who still cared about him despite his shortcomings.

Even if he had caused them to wear pink underwear from then on.

 


	3. Cas Gets Sunburned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place in Season 9

"Come on, Cas, hurry up, we want to get in some relaxing time before we have to head back."

Castiel followed Dean and Sam reluctantly, feeling strange in his new attire that Dean had told him was appropriate for the beach. They had come to hunt a water monster, and thankfully, the job had gone down without too much trouble, leaving them a few free days to relax. Sam was still recovering from the trials and Castiel knew Dean thought it was important he get as much downtime as possible. And since they were already on the beach, they decided to take advantage of that.

"Dean, I feel rather uncomfortable and exposed," Castiel told his friend, hugging his arms over his bare chest. This probably wouldn't have bothered him much before, but since he had become fully human, he found he was more susceptible to human emotion and had become more likely to get uncomfortable in certain situations where he had come to understand humans occasionally felt discomfort.

"Dude, you need to get some sun," Dean told him with a grin. "And seriously, three words: chicks in bikinis."

That didn't make Castiel want to go out there any more than before, but he sighed and finally got out of the car and followed the brothers down to the beach, mainly concentrating on not killing himself on the sandals he wore that were uncomfortable between his toes. Dean had promised they could get ice cream later, and he was rather fond of ice cream so maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The sun was very hot and the water looked inviting. It didn't take Castiel long to decide that he wanted to join Sam and Dean in the waves and found it to be very refreshing. It was also good to see the boys having fun, and seeming not to care about much of anything at the moment. They needed more days like that.

He was startled when Dean suddenly grabbed the back of his neck and ducked him under the water. Castiel came up spluttering to Dean's laughter and turned to glare at the hunter.

"I didn't find that amusing, Dean," he said.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Cas," Dean told him, splashing water in his face. "It's just for fun. Come on, let's go get Sam."

When they got tired of making each other inhale water—an act that was so uncomfortable, Castiel thought they must employ it as a torture in hell—they went back to the beach and ate lunch before laying down in the warm sand to have a rest. The feeling of the hot sand under him was so pleasant that Castiel found himself drifting off, and decided it wouldn't hurt to take a small nap. After all, they were relaxing. He dozed off while watching some children nearby make a sandcastle.

The rest of the day was just as enjoyable and they did get ice cream later before heading back to the hotel room to stay one more night before they'd have to leave.

Castiel showered to get the salt water off and found when he stepped out that his skin felt oddly tight and stung slightly, but figured it might just be a part of the lingering salt water and didn't think much more of it. He was pleasantly exhausted from the day at the beach, and was glad to get into his bed that night and fell asleep easily.

He woke in the middle of the night to a painful sensation. He groaned as he rolled over onto his back, feeling as if his entire upper body was on fire. He pushed the blankets off gingerly and ran his hands down his chest, looking for the source of the pain. His skin stung strangely when he touched it and as he grimaced, his face crinkled and hurt the same way. Staggering to his feet, he ran to the bathroom and turned the light on to see what was wrong with him.

As he looked into the mirror, he gasped in horror. His entire face as well as his neck and arms were red. He peeled off his t-shirt and saw his torso was the same, and when he turned around, his back was crimson as well. What on earth had happened? Perhaps he was allergic to seawater?

"Cas?" Sam stood in the doorway of the bathroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What…oh crap, you look awful!"

"Sam, what is wrong with me?" Castiel asked worriedly. "I feel like I'm on fire!"

"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad, though I'm sure it's uncomfortable," Sam told him, making Castiel feel a bit better. "I thought Dean was going to give you the sunblock. I should have known better."

"What is it?" Castiel asked.

"Sunburn. It was really bright today, I'm really sorry I didn't think to ask if you had put on sunblock. I forget that you don't know all these little things about everyday stuff." Sam smiled ruefully at him and motioned for him to come back out to the room. "Come on, we might have some aloe to put on you."

Castiel limped after Sam and eased himself down to sit miserably on the side of the bed, his back straight and even that position hurting. There seemed to be no way to alleviate the pain. Every small move he made only caused the burning sensation to be worse. He couldn't understand why he hadn't felt it before. Why had he not felt the sun burning him when they were on the beach? It had felt so pleasant then.

Dean groaned after Sam switched the light on and dug around in their first aid kit. He sat up with a dazed expression.

"What's going on?"

"Cas got a sunburn," Sam informed him. "It's pretty bad. Do we have any of the aloe left?"

Dean looked over at Cas sitting on the other bed, and his eyes popped open. "Dude, sunburn is an understatement, you look like a tomato!" he exclaimed, half horrified, half laughing.

"Dean, come on," Sam said with a sigh. "You should have made sure he had put on sunblock. I thought you were going to."

"I can't remember everything," Dean protested. "It's been a long time since I've had to look after someone."

Cas pressed his red skin gingerly, finding it hot to the touch, and hissed at the pain. His head also ached and he felt a bit sick to his stomach. He wondered if that was another side effect. Dean saw his discomfort and his look turned instantly to concern. He got up and went to sit next to Castiel. Cas flinched back, afraid Dean would touch him.

The hunter gave a low whistle. "Man, you really did get burned. I'm really sorry about that, Cas. I wasn't thinking."

"It's not your fault, Dean," Castiel assured him, grimacing as he shifted again. "I should have paid better attention."

"No, Cas, it is my fault. I just need to remind myself that you're new to all this and everything is strange to you. That you don't know any of the stuff Sam and I have known since we were kids."

"Found it!" Sam said, triumphantly holding up a bottle of aloe. Dean took it from him and motioned to Cas.

"Lay on your stomach and I'll put some of this on your back first. It will make you feel much better, trust me."

Cas did as he asked, his upper body protesting the movement and the burns on his chest making him grit his teeth in pain. "It hurts, Dean," he commented miserably.

"Yeah, I know, buddy. Just wait till you start peeling! The pain will be nothing compared to the itching."

"Dean!" Sam protested as Cas shot up on his elbows and craned his neck back to look horrified at Dean despite the pain the quick movement caused him.

"Peeling? Will this cause my skin to peel off?"

"Only the first layer," Dean told him, popping the bottle of aloe open. "Don't worry, it's all normal. Everyone gets sunburned all the time. Now lay down."

Castiel gasped as Dean first squeezed some of the aloe onto his back. It was cold and wet against his burned skin, but as the hunter worked on slathering it over the red areas, it soothed the burning sensation, and Cas closed his eyes with a sigh.

"Better?" Dean asked, as he finished up.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, Dean. Thank you."

After a few moments, Dean helped him sit up and handed him the bottle. Cas gingerly dabbed more of the aloe onto his chest and the end result felt better though he was too sticky to want to lay down on the bed again so Dean got him a towel to lay on and he slumped onto his side, watching the TV that Sam had turned on for him since he didn't think he could sleep for a while.

Dean came back with some pills and a glass of water. "Is your head aching?" he asked.

Cas nodded, realizing it for the first time.

Dean smiled ruefully. "Yeah, you probably got a little overheated. Next time, Cas, we'll take better care of you when we have a beach day. Promise. Take these and they'll help."

Castiel took them dutifully and closed his eyes to try and rest. Every time something like this happened, he felt stupider than before. How could he not know about these simple things, like the sun burning people without protection? So he didn't blame Dean and Sam when they forgot to remind him of things. They really had no need to do so. He should have known about things and not have to ask them everything. But he was also so very lucky that he had them there, and that they took care of him, even when they forgot to tell him about some simple mundane things. It was more than he could ever ask for. They were his family, and what was a little sunburn between family?

He smiled slightly as he fell asleep. The medicine helping to ease the pain and discomfort of these new human afflictions. If he were going to have to be human, he wouldn't consider having anyone else around but Sam and Dean to teach him things.

 


	4. Cas Cooks Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place in Season 9

Castiel didn't like being laid up. Now he knew why Sam and especially Dean were always bad tempered when they needed to recover from injuries. He was very frustrated and bad tempered because of it. Just that morning he had had a row with the Winchesters because they were going out on a hunt and forbade him to come.

"I can still fight," he assured them, though in truth, felt utterly helpless. He had three broken ribs and a twisted knee from a fight with a werewolf the week before. The fact that they still hadn't healed annoyed him more than anything. That was definitely something he would never get used to with being human. How long it took for even minor injuries to heal. He had gotten a paper cut yesterday and it still stung whenever he put soap on his hands.

"Cas, come on, man," Dean pleaded. He was tired of arguing with the former angel. Castiel knew that too, and part of him felt bad, but for the most part he was just frustrated with his impotent situation. "You know you're not used to fighting hurt. Everything feels twice as bad to you as it does normal people because you're not used to feeling pain like that. I can't have you out there, worrying about watching your back when I'm trying to fight. Okay?"

Castiel glared at him, opening his mouth to say something else before Sam cut in, more gently.

"We really do appreciate your help, Cas, always, but Dean's right. We don't want you to get hurt any worse than you are. You'll be fine soon enough, but just stay here this time okay? Enjoy some relaxing for a while! It's pretty rare for us."

"You and Dean never 'enjoy relaxing' when you're wounded," Castiel returned scathingly. "But I do understand your reservations. I realize I am a liability now that I am human." He couldn't help the bitterness even though he knew he shouldn't have said that.

"Cas, don't do that," Dean said in exasperation, gripping his shoulder before quickly removing it at Castiel's wince. "You know you're still just as good a fighter as you ever were, angel or not; and what are we, anyway? Sam and I get beat up all the time, you know that, you've healed us countless times. But you've got to know your limits now. Take care of your human body, cause they break down, Cas. So stay here and rest up, okay?"

"Fine," Castiel said with a sigh and watched as the brothers left the bunker with their bags.

He went back to the couch in the living room and slumped down, jarring his ribs slightly in the process. He groaned and reached for the TV remote. Even learning how to use this device had taken a patient Sam nearly an hour and he still wasn't entirely sure how everything worked. He could turn it on now though, and he did, flipping idly through channels.

TV was a fascinating look into the lives of humans. Or so he had thought until Dean assured him that life really wasn't like the shows called 'Soap Operas'. Castiel didn't even understand why they were called 'Soap Operas'. They had nothing to do with singing or cleanliness.

He liked the game shows better, at least you sometimes learned things from them, but today, he settled on the cooking channel and was watching a woman make 'comfort food'. These shows had a whole new appeal to Castiel now that he needed food to survive. He could probably eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the rest of his life and be happy, but he had found other food to be pleasant as well. Like ice cream, pizza, hamburgers, and burritos. He was also rather fond of waffles and that lucky cereal with the colored pieces that, no matter how much he ate, never seemed to change his fortune even if it did taste good.

He watched the women make a pot roast for a few minutes before the commercial break came on, and she promised to show the viewers how to make a pie next. Castiel sat up straighter. Dean liked pie a lot, and Castiel had grown rather fond of it too. He had been feeling bad about his conversation with the brothers before they left that morning, so perhaps he could do something to make up for that. He could make them dinner and Dean a pie.

He grabbed a pad of paper and took notes as the lady made the apple pie. It didn't look too hard, and Castiel thought he should be able to manage it. Now what to make for dinner?

He watched more of the cooking shows, and finally settled on spaghetti and meatballs. That looked easy too, and Castiel had recently tried it at a restaurant and decided it was another favorite dish of his, even if it was very hard to eat and had caused Sam and Dean to snicker as they watched his attempts to keep the noodles on his fork. Having figured out his menu, he went to the kitchen to see if he had everything he needed.

Amazingly, and probably thanks to Sam, there were apples for the pie and he even found tomato sauce and spaghetti for the main course. Now he just had to figure out what he was doing. He would make the pie first and the pasta later so it wouldn't get cold before Sam and Dean got back. He checked the notes he had taken about pie.

The first step was the peel and slice the apples. Castiel decided that his angel blade would do well enough, and set to work. This was easy. Once he had sliced them into the bowl, he searched for the other ingredients for the filling: sugar, cinnamon, and a little flour to thicken, the lady on the TV had said. They smelled good when he mixed them up and when he tasted one, they didn't seem too terrible. This small victory was short lived however, once he started on the crust.

Mixing the ingredients wasn't really hard. You only needed several things: flour, shortening, salt and cold water. But measuring the shortening proved difficult, for once he had gotten it into the cup, it didn't want to come out. Eventually his hands were covered in it and he was frantically looking around the kitchen for something…ah, that rubbery stick thing that the lady had used on TV. That should work.

Once he had scraped the shortening into the bowl and scrubbed it off his hands without much success, he stirred it with a fork until it was doughy. He took it over to the island and put the dough on it, flattening it out as well as he could with his hands. Then he remembered he was supposed to have two crusts, one for the bottom and one for the top. Sighing, he tried to take the dough up again, but it wouldn't move, and shredded everywhere. Frowning he looked at his notes and realized he had forgotten to put flour down first.

He finally managed to scrape the dough up and separated it into two parts before flattening it on the flour. This made moving it much easier. Some parts were thinner than others, but he thought that would be okay. He searched around for a pie plate and when he located one, he transferred the crust into it then went to pour the apples in. Now for the top crust.

The lady on the cooking show had made an intricate weave on hers, and Castiel decided he would try it, starting by cutting his remaining crust into strips and laying them over the apples. It didn't look quite right and nowhere near as nice as the cooking lady's had done, but it was his first pie, and it had gone together. Even if some of the crust was bigger than others and hung off the sides.

He took the pie off the counter and decided that he wouldn't cook it quite yet. The spaghetti sauce was, according to his notes, supposed to simmer for several hours, so he should probably start that now.

He searched the refrigerator to find an onion and garlic and hamburger meat, except they had eaten the hamburgers the night before and all that was left were sausage patties. It would have to do, Castiel decided.

He set the meat aside, and took up his angel blade again, taking the onion and garlic to the table where he had made the pie. He swept some of the flour to one side and looked at the onion. He didn't remember eating it with the crinkly skin so maybe he had to peel it like the apple. He did so and then began chopping it into tiny pieces.

His eyes began to smart and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear then, but they just ran more and he stopped chopping and rubbed his sleeve against them. Was he crying? Why? He didn't feel sad, and he didn't think he was that bad at figuring out human emotions. He quickly finished the onions, sniffing the whole time, and wondered if it was something to do with cutting up onions that had made him emotional because it stopped when he had finished. The garlic was easier, and again he realized he should peel it, so he was done quickly and went to find a pan to put them in.

He knew how to turn on the stove and the oven, thanks to Dean, and he put the pan on one of the burners, and threw the meat and onions into the pan, hearing the sizzle, the smell making him hungry. He went to find the spices recommended but realized he hadn't written down an amount. He would just have to guess at it and dashed a few sprinkles of everything. The recipe had also called for wine, but there wasn't any in the bunker, so Castiel decided he would substitute it for scotch instead. He jumped back as it hissed angrily at him upon entering the pan but it settled down soon enough.

Once the meat was cooked, he got the can of tomato sauce then realized he couldn't open it. There was nothing to pop it open like soda cans, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do with it. Maybe he would use his blade.

It only took one stab of the angel blade to open the can, and some sauce spurted onto the floor in the process. Cas poured the sauce into the pan and stirred everything together before he put a lid on and sat down to wait for it to finish cooking.

He went back to the living room and watched some more cooking shows. He was startled when his phone rang and grabbed it to see Dean was calling.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hey Cas, Sam and I finished the hunt, it was easier than expected. We'll be back in about an hour. You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," Cas said, getting up to head back to the kitchen. He needed to finish cooking.

"Okay, see you soon."

Castiel hurried to set the oven right for the pie, and put it onto the rack. He checked the sauce, and thought it was cooking well enough. Now for the spaghetti. That was easy; just boil water and put the noodles in.

Once he had started to boil the water, he looked around and realized what a mess the kitchen was. There were still dishes in the sink from the night before. Dean wasn't necessarily always on the ball when it came to cleaning, and Sam didn't usually cook. There was the machine that washed dishes though, and Castiel had seen how Dean put stuff in it and they came out clean. It was kind of like the washing machine but for dishes, and it had fascinated Cas seeing the results for the first time. He loaded it up and then looked around for the soap. He couldn't seem to find any though, and knew it wasn't the dish soap for the sink. Maybe it used the same soap as the washing machine.

Cas went to find the laundry soap and by the time he got back and poured it in, starting the washer, the water for the pasta had boiled so he poured it in.

He stirred the sauce again, frowning as he saw it sticking to the bottom of the pan. He didn't think it should be doing that.

He was so occupied with trying to fix it, taking it off the stove to stir vigorously, that he didn't notice what was happening behind him with the dishwasher. When he finally turned, he nearly dropped the pan of sauce.

The washer had foam pouring from the seams and dripping all over the floor, growing larger and larger by the minute. He set the pan down and ran to press the buttons, not finding one that would stop it.

"No, stop!" he cried, finally just opening the machine which only resulted in a flood of soapsuds whooshing out over his feet to cover the floor.

He ran for the mop, but his injured knee nearly collapsed at the sudden movement and he slipped in the soap and fell, jarring his broken ribs painfully. He curled up, trying to stop the pain and get his breath back, but more suds came to engulf him. He scrambled back to his feet and saw that at least the machine had stopped working, even if the bubbles and water kept flooding the floor. He mopped up as much as he could, wringing it into a bucket, but there was still a lot of it on the floor.

That was when he smelled burning. He frowned, before he realized with horror: "The pie!"

He ran across to the oven, nearly slipping again and opened the door, seeing the top of the crust a lot darker than it should be. Without thinking, he reached for it, only to be met with a white hot pain in his fingers and palms and realized how hot it was. He pulled back quickly, muffling a yelp, and grabbed a towel to protect his hands with, grabbing the pie and almost throwing it onto the counter. It was then he realized the towel was on fire. He yelled and threw it into the sink, running the water and coughing on the smoke as he ran his burned hands under the cold tap, wincing.

He looked at them gingerly. The skin was red and shiny in several places. It didn't look as bad as it could have been, but was extremely painful. Even more so than his broken ribs, maybe. He only hoped the pie wasn't ruined.

He finally ventured from the cold water and went to find a bandage to cover his burns. When he came back, he remembered the pasta and thought it was likely done by now. When he tried to stir it, however, he found it stuck in a lump on the bottom of the pan. He quickly pulled it off and drained the water, being careful not to burn himself again.

So far everything had seemed to be a disaster, he thought blandly as he tried to loosen the pasta from the pan. Cooking was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. Just another human thing he couldn't master.

He looked at the clock and realized Sam and Dean would be home soon. He hurried to clean up as much of the still lingering water and suds as possible, and was just setting plates out when he heard the brothers return.

"Cas, we're back!" Dean called. "What is that smell?"

Heavy footsteps raced into the kitchen and Castiel started awkwardly, quickly hiding his burned hands, as Sam and Dean skidded to a halt just inside the kitchen. They actually skidded, as there was still some soap on the floor.

"Cas, is everything all right?" Sam asked, sniffing the air that still had a burnt smell to it and looking at the floor curiously.

Castiel ducked his head sheepishly. "I…made dinner. Or tried to, at least."

The boys looked at him for a few seconds before they smiled. Dean came over to Cas and clapped him on the shoulder. "Look at you, Cas, you're one frilly apron away from being a regular housewife."

"I'm afraid it might not be very good. I had a series of…accidents," Castiel admitted and Dean looked over to the open dishwasher still dripping, beside which he could see the laundry soap. He decided it best not to say anything about it at the moment.

"I'm sure Sam and I have eaten worse, serve 'er up!"

Castiel grabbed the spaghetti strainer and started to dish out the lumps of spaghetti onto three plates then poured some of the charred sauce over it.

"This looks…great, Cas," Dean said with a smile, only hesitating slightly.

Castiel couldn't really blame him. It didn't look nearly as good as the spaghetti he had eaten at the diner.

They sat at the table and started eating. Castiel watched the Winchesters tentatively try the pasta, watching their hooded reactions before he tried it himself. It wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. Some parts tasted better than others, the ones that weren't charred onto the pan, and the pasta was so stuck together it had to be cut, but it was better than he had hoped. It was just rather hard to eat with his burned hand. Thankfully Sam and Dean hadn't noticed it yet.

When they had finished, Dean sat back in the chair with a sigh. "Well, Cas, I would say that wasn't too bad for your first cooking experience."

"Really?" Castiel asked skeptically.

"Yeah, you should have seen Sammy's," Dean said with a laugh as his brother made a face at him. "He tried cooking for me when he was five and I was sick. It made me sicker."

"It was only canned soup, and you still ate it all, Dean," Sam retorted, smirking slightly.

"And you wonder why I was sick for a week," Dean shot back.

Cas smiled at them before he stood up. "I also made pie," he said tentatively.

Dean's eyes lit up. "Bring it!"

Castiel went back to the kitchen and cut several slices of the pie, carrying it out to the table. It was decidedly black, and looked even more mangled than it had when he put it in the oven. He set the slices in front of the brothers and then sat down with his own, watching anxiously as Dean took his first bite.

It seemed to Cas he might have had a hard time swallowing it, but he drank from his glass and smiled at Castiel.

"Is it…okay?" Cas asked.

"Cas," Dean told him. "You didn't forget the pie. That's all that matters."

Castiel smiled slightly and took a bite of his own. It was burned and awful, but Dean and Sam ate every bite.

When they had finished, Cas stood up to take their plates into the kitchen. When he took Dean's the hunter grabbed his wrist before he could pull back and eyed the bandage on his hand.

"Cas, what did you do?" he asked in a voice only an older brother would have perfected.

Cas tried to pull away but winced. Dean set his plate aside, and peeled back the bandages, revealing the red flesh. Sam hissed in sympathy.

"That looks pretty bad, Cas," the younger Winchester said as Dean moved to the other hand and revealed that too.

"What happened?" was all Dean asked, looking up to meet Cas' eyes.

"It was just a stupid accident."

"Maybe you should start at the beginning," Dean said, motioning for Cas to sit down. Castiel sighed and began telling the brothers about his escapades as Sam fetched the first aid kit and Dean salved and bandaged Cas' burned hands. He could see Dean's mouth trying not to smile on several occasions during the story, and when he had finally finished, he patted Castiel's elbow fondly.

"You're well on your way to being a human yet, Cas. There isn't a human out there who hasn't made the same mistakes at some point," he said, standing and gathering the dishes himself. "Come on, let me show you how to properly clean up the kitchen.

Castiel stood, unable to help a grateful smile. He knew that most of his learning was going to be trial and error, but, he supposed, as long as he learned from his mistakes, it couldn't be that bad.

Besides. He had remembered the pie, after all.

 


	5. Cas Goes Fishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set during Season 5

Castiel was still not entirely sure how he felt about the human idea of 'relaxation'. Certainly, he could see the merits, especially when it came to lives as hectic as the Winchesters lived, but it still seemed rather unnecessary to him, especially when so many other things were going on. Perhaps what confused him most were the ways humans 'relaxed'. The strangest yet was this new idea that Dean had coaxed him into doing with him, which had ended up with them out in the middle of a lake in a small boat getting bitten by flying bugs.

"Dean, I don't understand why this is entertaining," Castiel said, holding up the 'fishing pole' Dean had given him.

"Come on, Cas, don't be a spoil sport," Dean told him, clapping him hard on the shoulder. "Fishing is relaxing and we could all do with some of that, right?"

"Fishing is for fishermen, Dean, it's a way poor people feed themselves. I don't see where relaxation comes into it."

"Well we don't need fish to eat, this isn't exactly medieval times, so we're just seeing what we can catch and if we do, we'll eat those!" Dean told him, grabbing the pole from him. "Here, I'll bait it for you the first time."

Castiel watched dispassionately as Dean fitted a worm onto the hook and handed him the pole back, the wiggling worm almost slapping him in the face. "What do I do with this?" he asked, wishing Sam hadn't begged off on the fishing trip so that Dean decided to ask the angel instead.

The hunter gave a longsuffering sigh, taking the line and throwing it over the side of the boat. "You throw it into the water, and wait until you get a bite."

"That's it?" Castiel asked, unimpressed. "And what do we do in the meantime?"

Dean smiled. "Sit back and wait, have a beer or two, see? Relaxing!"

"It seems like a waste of time when we should be out trying to stop the Apocalypse."

"Oh, Cas," Dean groaned. "Lighten up. Everyone needs a day to themselves. Now shut up and relax or I'll toss you over the side."

Castiel clamped his mouth shut, still annoyed and not liking getting bitten by the bugs. It was very uncomfortable. But as he cast a glance over at Dean who had slouched back against the side of the small boat with a languid look on his face, he decided that it might be worth it after all. If only for the fact that Dean was at least 'relaxing'. It just wasn't something in Castiel's nature to do.

As he was thinking, Dean sat up straight, and turned to him, gripping his pole tighter. "I got a bite, here, get the net, Cas. I'll show you how to reel it in."

Castiel set his pole aside and took up the net in the bottom of the boat and held it out for Dean. He watched with mild interest as Dean pulled the fish in and dropped it, wriggling, into the net.

"See? That's how it's done!" he said as Cas watched the fish flop around in the bottom of the boat. Dean took the hook from the fish and reached around for another worm.

"Let's see who can catch the most!" he grinned, throwing his line back in. "I think it's time for a drink." He reached into the cooler they had brought and pulled out two bottles of beer, handing one to Cas. The angel decided he could drink one; after all, it seemed like it would be rude to make Dean drink alone.

"Did your father take you fishing?" Castiel asked after a few moments of silence.

Dean drank for a moment then swallowed, shaking his head. "Not really. Bobby did though. When Sam and I were kids. He did lots of things with us that Dad didn't have time for."

"I'm sorry," Castiel said, without knowing why he did.

"Hey, it's all right. It's in the past now, nothing we can do about that," Dean told him putting on the carefree façade, though underneath, Castiel could see that sadness that was always there, that he wished more than anything didn't have to be. So if Dean wanted to drag him fishing, he shouldn't complain. If the hunter could have a few hours of quiet happiness, who was he to keep him from that?

He was startled when his fishing pole started moving. He had set it aside against his knee for the moment and grabbed it again so it wouldn't go over the side.

"Dean," he called, feeling the tugging.

"Hey, you got one, Cas!" Dean exclaimed. "Reel 'er in! Nice and slow."

"Like this?" Castiel asked as he started to wind the fish in.

"Yeah! Here, I'll get the net."

Dean reached for the net, setting aside his own fishing pole, when he got a tug on his own line, and reached for the pole just as it was tugged from the boat. He cursed and reached for it.

"I think I've got it, Dean!" Castiel said, with a small smile, actually pleased with himself as he pulled a wriggling fish out of the water, he turned to see Dean reaching over the side of the boat. "What are you doing?" He frowned.

"I lost my fishing pole. Here, hand me the net so I can reach it."

Castiel reached for the dropped net but in his haste, he swung his own pole over and his fish slapped Dean in the face, knocking him off balance and tipping him over the side with a spluttering cry.

"Dean!" Castiel cried, making sure he put his fishing pole into the bottom of the boat so he couldn't do any more damage with it before leaning over to make sure Dean was alight.

The hunter surfaced, gripping the side of the boat and spat water on the angel's trench coat. He held his fishing pole and tossed it into the boat, shaking water out of his face.

"What was that? I asked you to help, not send me into the drink."

"Sorry, Dean," Castiel said, reaching down for the hunter. "Here, I'll help you up."

"No, Cas, wait!" Dean said as Castiel leaned over to grab the back of his shirt, realizing his mistake too late. Dean tried to shove him backwards, but there was no use, as more of his body was already out of the boat than in it and the small boat was tipping alarmingly. He could do nothing but fall on Dean and bring them both into the water again, the boat rolling over completely.

The trench coat weighed Castiel down so that he had to swim hard to get up to the surface and he almost sank again when he got up there, and would have, if Dean didn't grab the back of his coat and haul him over to the capsized boat. Cas spluttered and gripped the side of the boat, looking at Dean in shock, before the hunter started laughing, shaking his head so that water slapped Castiel in the face.

"Well, I guess we became the fish, Cas."

"Sorry," Castiel said.

"That's okay, you just have to learn to be more careful in boats," Dean said. "Now let's see if we can get this thing back upright so we can head back to shore."

With some difficulties, they righted the boat and managed to climb back in without falling back into the water. So much for a relaxing afternoon fishing.

They trudged back to Bobby's house, soaking wet, finding Sam sitting out on the porch reading. He looked up and laughed as he saw them.

"What happened to you? I thought you were catching fish, not the other way around."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean told him good-naturedly. "If I don't get dry clothes soon, I'll start chafing."

Sam looked up at Cas as Dean went into the house, smiling at the angel. "Thanks for looking after him for the day, Cas. He looks happier than he has for a while."

Castiel nodded. "I think there might actually be something to this relaxing. You should do it more often. I might even endeavor to try it more myself."

Sam grinned. "It's always a good thing."

"If one doesn't turn over the boat," Castiel added.

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I guess that could be a bit of a problem."

But either way, it was still important that they weren't out fighting that day. They would have enough to do before long, out risking their lives again; they should make time to afford a day of relaxation for sanity's sake. Even if you got wet in the process and didn't catch any fish after all.


	6. Cas Gets Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place in Season 9

"Is this sufficient, Dean?"

Dean looked up to see Castiel holding a half empty bottle of liquor where he stood beside the bowl of eggnog they had set out. He huffed a laugh. Cas and Sam both were heavy handed when it came to spiking the eggnog.

"Yeah, Cas, I think that's okay," he said.

"Good," Cas smiled. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

It was the first Christmas they had spent at the bunker; the first time they had had a home for, well, ever. And Cas was human, and things were hard, but Dean had been determined to do Christmas right that year, for his family as well as for himself. He just wanted to forget all their problems for the moment. At least for a couple days.

Now it was Christmas Eve, and they were getting the last of their decorations in order. Sam had even brought home a scraggly little tree the day before with a self-conscious shrug when Dean had rolled his eyes at him. Not that Dean really cared, he was just giving his brother a hard time. He was actually happy that Sammy seemed happy, and Cas as well. The former angel seemed to have relaxed quite a bit in the festive atmosphere, and as long as Dean's family was happy, so was he.

"See if you can make that tree stand up straight," Dean told him and Cas went to see to that while he went into the kitchen. Sure, they weren't having any of the fancy Christmas supper items, but Dean had made homemade pizza, and that was special enough. Any home cooked meal was special after the long years of bad diner food they had endured. Sometimes he really did wonder how he had lived so long.

He was just checking it when a shuffling crash came from the other room and Dean hurried in to see Cas had lost the fight with the tree and was currently lying under it, several red balls rolling away in various directions.

"I don't think it wanted to stand up straight, Dean," Cas said.

"You're supposed to put angles on top of trees, not under them," Dean smirked as he righted the tree and manhandled it into position as Cas gathered the escaped ornaments and put them back where they belonged.

"Why would you put an angel on top of a Christmas tree?" Castiel asked with his narrow-eyed confused look.

Dean, shrugged. "I don't know. Just tradition."

Sam came in from the outside then, bringing a cold gust of air and snow with him. He brushed his gloved hands off and shrugged out of his coat. "It's really dropping out there. They said on the news there is a big chance of a snowstorm. We'll have to get some more wood for the fire."

"Later, Sam, now it's time to eat." Dean told him, giving the tree one last adjustment and finally satisfied that it would stay, he went back to the kitchen. "The pizza is done. Am I not a master chef?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It does really smell good though. I won't even say anything about how you didn't put a single vegetable on it."

"Black olives totally qualify as a vegetable," Dean told him, affronted. He went to fetch his masterpiece while Sam and Cas set the table.

The pizza was indeed very good, which only made Dean act more full of himself, and afterward, they all retired to the study to watch some classic Christmas movies, which started an argument between Sam and Dean.

"Dude, we're totally watching Home Alone first," Dean said, grabbing the dvd. "Then we can watch your It's a Wonderful Life."

"Fine, but you have to promise not to give a whole running commentary of sarcasm while we watch it," Sam said.

"Whatever, man," Dean told him and reached for the eggnog, pouring three cups. "I'll make popcorn."

"The fire's going out," Sam commented, going over to the fireplace to see to it and sighed. "Dean, we forgot to go get the wood from outside. The storm is setting in now."

"Well we need it, this place has terrible central heating," Dean said.

"I'll go," Castiel offered, getting off the couch.

"Sure, Cas?" Sam asked. "I can run out if you want."

"It's fine," Cas told them. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Take the sled and load up as much as you can," Dean called to him before heading into the kitchen to make popcorn.

Castiel nodded and climbed the stairs toward the outside door. He cast a glance at his jacket but decided he wouldn't be out there long enough to need it, and continued outside in just his current outfit of jeans and sweater.

He regretted his decision almost instantly as the cold blast of wind and snow hit him upon opening the door. He forgot so many times that things like cold, heat, hunger and weariness bothered him so much now that he was human. But he didn't go back to get his jacket and gloves. Of course he was cold, but that was normal for humans, and he would just have to learn to live with it.

The snow was blowing so hard now that he could hardly see where he was going. He was also shaking so much it was hard for him to walk. He glanced over his shoulder at the bunker wondering if he should go back and get his warmer clothes, but again decided against it. It wouldn't take him that long to collect the wood.

Once he went around to their wood pile, he loaded it up quickly on the sled. His fingers were frozen, his hands so numb he was clumsy getting the wood loaded. Maybe he had made a huge mistake. Perhaps being this cold wasn't a good thing and it wasn't just that he was more susceptible to it in his new human form.

He finished after several more attempts, accidentally dropping the wood and knocking his stacks over, and started back for the warmth of the bunker, only to find that he had lost his way in the blinding snow, and that all his footprints had been erased as well.

He stood for several minutes, shivering uncontrollably. When he still had his powers, he could have found his way by inner instinct, which he did not possess anymore. He decided that moving would be better than nothing and might warm him, so he set off in his best guess of the right direction and hoped for the best.

Back inside the bunker, Dean began to wonder where their friend had gotten to as the minutes dragged on.

"It shouldn't take him that long to get firewood," Dean commented, watching the guttering fire.

Sam didn't reply, he too starting to get worried. He walked toward the stairs leading to the door, to see if Cas was anywhere close when he caught sight of a jacket slung over the coat rack.

"Dean," he called, holding up the jacket and the pair of gloves that were stuffed into the pocket. "Cas doesn't have his jacket on."

"What?" Dean demanded, joining his brother. "Damn it, Cas. He's probably frozen to death out there. Come on, Sam, let's make sure he didn't get lost or something." Dean grabbed his own warm clothes and Sam did the same and they went outside with flashlights to find their lost friend.

"Cas!" Dean shouted into the blowing wind. He cursed and wrapped his arms tightly around himself. "It's freezing out here!"

Sam's tall frame was already shaking, and Dean couldn't imagine how Cas was feeling in only his normal clothes. It wasn't the first time Dean wanted to shoot himself for not checking up on Cas. He just forgot sometimes that he was human now. As did Cas, which was why he usually got into trouble.

Cas was stumbling along with the wood pulled behind him on the sled. He couldn't feel his hands at all now, not even to register them as cold. And his feet were the same, just lumps attached to his legs. He thought he saw a light flash up ahead and stopped trying to see it again, wondering if he had just imagined it. Then he saw it again, and heard faint shouting on the wind. Finally, it changed direction and he was able to make out the sound.

"Cas! Cas, where are you?"

It was Sam and Dean, come to his rescue. He was very grateful and at the same time, embarrassed. Could he not even collect wood alone without mishap?

"I'm here!" he tried to call, moving in their direction where he could see the lights. He didn't think his voice would reach them, but he was going toward them now, so hopefully they would know how to get back to the bunker.

"Cas!" Sam called.

"Here!" Castiel called as loudly as he could. It seemed even his vocal cords were frozen and the wind tore away the voice he had left. He stumbled in the snow and landed on his face, his frozen hands doing nothing to catch him. It was then that Sam and Dean spotted him as he forced himself from the snow. He felt their thumping footsteps through the ground.

"Cas! Hey," Sam said as he crouched down next to him and gave him a hand up. Dean was there on his other side in an instant and they drew him to his feet again. He tried to grab onto their jacket sleeves to help, but his fingers didn't seem to want to work anymore.

"Cas, what were you thinking going out without a jacket and gloves in this weather, man?" Dean demanded as he slung Castiel's arm over his shoulders and started off in the direction the bunker likely waited, while Sam took care of the wood.

"I forgot. I'm n-not u-used to being c-cold," Castiel tried to say, but his tongue was cold, unable to form words. Dean quickened his pace and finally they got to the door of the bunker and it was opened to light and a wave of warmth that made Castiel gasp in relief.

"You gotta take better care of yourself, man," Dean told him. "You've only got a human body now."

He practically drug Castiel into the study, his feet too frozen to feel, and put him on the couch as Sam worked to make the fire up again. Cas was hardly aware of Dean grabbing his hands, he couldn't feel them, only the slight pressure of Dean's fingers working life back into them. The older Winchester cursed.

"Your hands are popsicles, Cas! You'll be lucky if you don't have frost bite."

"We need to get him warm, Dean, he's not shivering enough," Sam said, worriedly as he ran to get some blankets.

"Damn it, Cas," Dean growled again, as he pulled Castiel's shoes off and propped his legs as close to the fire grate as he dared, then went back to chafing his hands and then vigorously massaging his arms and chest to get the blood flowing. Cas was finally shivering after a few minutes of that, and Dean relaxed slightly, though was still worried about the coldness of his hands and feet. Not to mention the red, burned look to his cheeks and nose where it wasn't caked with snow from his face plant. He swiftly took out a handkerchief and rubbed the snow that had gathered on his eyelids and eyelashes and in his hair, nearly freezing it solid.

Sam came back with as many blankets as he could find and several hot water bottles and heating pads. "I can make more hot water bottles if we need them," he said, settling them around Cas' body before he piled on the blankets and helped Dean tuck them in.

"Let's try these for now," Dean told him, watching as Cas began to shudder, his teeth practically chattering out of his head. "Get him some coffee." He tucked one of the water bottles underneath Cas' frozen feet and another under his hands. "Let me know as soon as you can feel anything in your hands," he said.

Cas nodded, shivering too hard to say anything. His hands and feet were so frozen he could barely feel the warmth from the heaters under them. Sam came back with the coffee soon after and held it for Cas to drink from. It took some doing as his teeth were chattering so badly, but he finally managed to get nearly half of it into Cas and watched his shivering subside a bit.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and reached under the blankets to grip one of Cas' hands again, feeling if it had warmed up at all.

"It h-hurts, Dean," Cas got out.

"That's good," Dean told him, taking Cas' hands off the hot water bottle and chafing them together as the other man winced. "That means they're warming up. It will hurt for a while, but they'll get warm again soon. Once they thaw you'll have to tell me if there's any numbness in them still." He sat back and folded his arms over his chest. "You do realize how dangerous that was, don't you, Cas? If you were out there much longer you could have gotten really bad frostbite and-or hypothermia. You can't just run out in the snow in regular clothes."

"I'm s-sorry, I didn't think," Castiel replied, wincing as his hands and feet started tingling painfully, feeling like he was getting stabbed with thousands of pins. His face and nose felt much the same. "I d-didn't think that it was as b-bad as it was. That I j-just wasn't used to it."

Dean sighed. "I know you didn't know, Cas. But don't hesitate to ask Sam or me if you have any questions, that's why we're here."

"Yeah, we won't think any less of you, Cas," Sam said with a kind smile. "We know you're still learning and we're here to help you."

Castiel shuddered, trying to smile at his friends, his family, but his teeth were still chattering too much. "T-thank you. I d-do appreciate it."

Dean smiled and stood up, going to get the cups of eggnog before returning and sitting next to Cas on the couch to help him drink. "Here, this will warm you up for sure."

Cas coughed after the first sip, but his skin was getting some color back. Sam laughed at his breathless look. "See, Dean? My eggnog is way more drinkable than that."

"Well, it fits the bill nicely," Dean said with a grin as he took his own cup and braced himself for a sip. "Now, how about that movie?"

Castiel warmed up as they watched the movies and drank too much eggnog.

"Apparently my alcohol threshold is far lower as a human," he slurred to Dean, swaying slightly on the couch.

Dean artfully took his cup away. "Yeah, I'm cutting you off before you start dancing, and doing karaoke."

"Why would I start dancing, Dean?" Castiel asked with his confused expression, his head tilted to one side.

"I don't know, Cas, just watch the movie," Dean told him with a smirk.

Cas fell asleep on the couch and Dean and Sam decided to leave him there where it was warmer, after taking his temperature and making sure he had warmed up sufficiently. His hands and feet were no longer popsicles and his skin had gained back its usual color.

"Dude, we should totally decorate him," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam chuckled, dragging his brother away from their sleeping friend. "Leave him alone."

"Fine. Goodnight, Sammy. You better go to sleep or Santa won't come."

Sam shot him a look. "Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean replied fondly.

It was one of the best Christmases the Winchesters had ever had, their first real one in years. It was relaxed, happy, and they managed to forget all their problems as hoped for a day. They exchanged typical Winchester gifts that had been stashed under their scraggly tree, and ate lots of junk food, and watched more movies. Best of all, Dean felt like they were a family again, him and Sam and Cas, the last of their family left now and if felt nice. Nice that they could still enjoy these simple, happy moments together.

He only hoped that it would last for a lot longer than just that day.


	7. Cas Becomes a Bookworm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place in Season 9

Dean knew the hardest part of being human for Cas—well, one of the hardest parts, since the guy was kind of struggling with things like even using a shower properly—was the healing process when he got wounded on hunts. Not that Sam and Dean tried to get him hurt, he just seemed to have inherited the bad luck of the Winchesters as he had become part of their family.

He was currently recuperating from several broken ribs and a badly sprained ankle that he couldn't put any weight on without horrible pain, so it might as well have been broken. Apart from the obvious discomfort of having to either sit on his bed or the couch there was also the humiliation of having Sam and Dean practically carry him when he needed to move or use the bathroom, because he could hardly deal with crutches with his broken ribs. So he just became a very snappy and very annoyed ex-angel who was making Dean tear his hair out. Sam was more patient with him, but even he was wearing thin as Cas got more and more ticked off as the days went by.

Dean had mercy on him eventually and bought Netflix for his laptop so Cas could at least have something to watch. But he got hooked on the wrong show (that new Sherlock Holmes one set in modern day London, which Dean only thought he liked because the cheekbones guy wore a trench coat and a blue scarf) and after only a couple days where he got through all the episodes, didn't feel like watching anything else, though Dean and Sam both tried to find him another mystery show and ones in other genres.

Finally though, Sam had an idea and told Dean he was going out. Dean didn't know where he was going, but he didn't really care either. If Sam could find something to keep Cas happy, then that was fine with him, he was done, and if he had to listen to anything related to Sherlock again he was going to scream.

Sam came back a couple hours later with a huge stack of books from the library. He smirked at Dean's unamused look and went to where Cas was sitting on the couch and put the books on the coffee table.

"Hey, Cas, I brought you some books to read," Sam told him with a smile, picking some of them up. "Look, I found some of the Sherlock Holmes stories. I thought you might like those, and there's a bunch of others that I enjoyed."

Cas looked at the books and forced a smile for the younger Winchester, touched at his dedication. "Thank you, Sam, I'm sure I will enjoy them."

He started with the Sherlock Holmes stories, and once he had gone through those, went on to Robert Louis Stevenson, and Tolkien, and Dickens and many others, until he came to one of the last books in the pile and looked at the title: Pride and Prejudice.

And that was what Dean found him reading later when he brought him a sandwich for lunch. He put the plate on the table, frowning as Cas didn't look up at him, too absorbed in his book. He bent to look at the cover, making Cas grunt at him as he shifted the book.

"What the…Dude, seriously? Frickin' Jane Austin?"

Cas glared at him, finally putting the book down in his lap. "Dean, this book has an amazing grasp of humanity in general, and realistically addresses the unexplainable psychology of attraction and romantic feelings. This is a brilliant work of fiction. I have learned so much reading it."

Dean held his hands up, not wanting to get into this argument. "Okay, man, whatever. Never knew you were such a hopeless romantic."

"There is nothing wrong with enjoying romance, Dean," Cas told him, offended. "It is certainly more realistic than that show you like with the 'sexy' doctor. All the times I have been in a hospital, I have never come across the doctors having relations in broom closets. It's very unprofessional."

Dean sputtered, opening his mouth and then shook his head, deciding it wasn't worth it. He walked away and left Cas to his stupid girly books.

Once Castiel had finished that one, he sent Sam back to the library to pick up all the rest of Jane Austin's books much to Dean's chagrin and a bit of smugness from Sam. Within the course of a week, Cas had not only read all the Jane Austin books, but others by writers from the same time period and spent long hours in what Dean coined 'book club' discussing the differences with Sam.

"I don't even know you two," Dean told them, pretending to be disgusted, but frankly, he was glad Cas was feeling better and not seeming to mind being laid up so much.

That was until he woke up the next morning and found Cas smiling eagerly at his laptop.

"Dean," he said with excitement as the elder Winchester came over to the couch with a yawn.

"What?" Dean groused.

"It seems there are many film adaptions of Jane Austin's works on Netflix. Would you like to see one? It would be less tedious for you than reading the books and I do believe you will like Mr. Darcy's character."

Dean groaned and decided it was time to go back to bed and possibly cancel the Netflix subscription.

 


	8. Cas Has a No Good Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place in Season 9

Castiel had had lots of misfortunes since he became human, simply because of his poor understanding of how hard it really was, but nothing would ever have prepared him for all the small, every day annoyances that humans had to deal with, that led him to wonder how on earth anyone managed to live a normal life without going completely insane.

He really began to understand this, when he woke up one morning to what humans coined a 'bad day', the kind where the whole world seemed against you and you started to wonder whether you had been hexed by a witch or something.

By the end of the day, Cas really regretted his rolling out of bed that morning, which was really where it had all started.

The instant he swung out of bed, he tripped over a pile of books and stubbed his toe. It hurt more than expected and he had to sit back down on the bed, inspecting the appendage and finding it red and slightly swollen.

"That hurt," he muttered to himself.

Sam and Dean were currently taking care of a routine salt and burn one town over, so he had the bunker to himself until they got back that afternoon. It had felt empty but he had secretly been glad of a little bit of quiet. He loved Sam and Dean like brothers, but he was at heart a bit of a solitary person who enjoyed peaceful times when he had the chance to enjoy them, and he had found out the hard way that living in a family environment did not always offer those circumstances.

Limping slightly on his toe, he gathered his clean clothes and went to take a shower, hoping to wake himself up a bit. It definitely woke him up, as about halfway through washing his hair, the water turned freezing cold and while he shouted in shock and fought with the knobs, the water guttered and quit completely, leaving him shivering and soapy. He tried turning the water on again but the pipes just groaned. The bunker was very old and they had been having trouble with the plumbing recently, since last week a toilet flooded on Sam much to Dean's amusement. This was not amusing at all, however, and Cas had to finish washing his hair in the sink, the water cold, and when he had finished, he felt no more refreshed than when he had woken up, and his hair looked like a lost cause.

The next mistake he made was trying to shave, but for some reason it did not work the same in cold water as it did in hot and after three times nicking his jaw with the razor, he decided that was probably a bad idea too and gave up.

"Perhaps breakfast will help," he said to himself as he dressed quickly and headed to the kitchen.

He put a toast in the toaster, and selected strawberry jam before going to see about some cereal to go with it. He was fond of cereal, like Cheerios and Frosted Flakes and the ones with the small colorful marshmallows in them that Sam claimed he didn't eat anymore, but Dean knew better and still bought them. This morning, Cheerios were all that was in the cupboard so he poured a bowl and went to get the milk. He tipped the carton over his bowl and only a dribble came out. Castiel sighed and bent to look into the fridge, but found no other carton of milk so he was left with partly damp cereal.

That was when he smelled burning and rushed over to the toaster just in time to see his toast pop up black—the kind of black that can't be scraped off.

Cas slumped at the table to his damp Cheerios and black toast that even strawberry jam couldn't fix (he had found out it was the last piece of bread too) and decided that he was going to go shopping after he ate. At least then, he would have something to eat.

He took some money from their stash for the store and went to grab his bicycle which Sam and Dean had found for him in the bunker; he rode it around town when no one was there to drive him. It wasn't that he couldn't drive, and there were certainly enough cars in the bunker's garage, but he really enjoyed bicycling for the exercise—which, coincidently, was something he had to worry about as a human. He was not going to repeat the conversation he had last month with Dean when he mentioned his new clothes had gotten tight and the hunter had called him 'soft' and poked him in the stomach. He supposed it was only to be expected from wanting to try all the new foods he had never tasted before, and there had been so many different donuts at the bakery, but since then, he had done extra fight training with the brothers and bicycled a lot, getting back into the trim shape he had been in before.

He began to relax as he rode to the store, the morning was pleasant even if he had suffered several small misfortunes. He was almost happy by the time he reached the store, when he found an unexpected pothole with his front tire and before he knew it, he was lying on the asphalt, looking up at the sky, the bicycle lying on top of him.

He took a few moments to get his breath back then moved the bicycle aside and sat up with a groan, checking himself for injuries. He was sore, but there didn't seem to be too much damage. His helmet had protected him.

However when he stood up, he realized his bike had not been so lucky. The front wheel was bent and the tire looked flat and he didn't think he was going to be able to ride it home.

With a deep sigh, Castiel drug the injured bicycle over to the bike rack and locked it up. As he bent, something caught on the back of his pants and he heard a rrriiipp! He stood up quickly, clapping a hand to the back of his pants and finding a hole that was showing his boxer shorts. His cheeks reddened as someone nearby laughed and he quickly took off his sweatshirt and tied it around his waist before heading into the store, deciding it best to just get it all over with and get back to the bunker as soon as possible.

Amazingly, he was able to find all the items he needed, and went up to the check out.

"That will be 20.32, sir," the cashier told him.

Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out the fifteen dollars he had brought, mentally sighing. "I-I only have fifteen, I just rode my bike here. Can you take something off?"

He finally decided to put the orange juice and eggs and bacon back, as they did actually have some of that left. He hoped Dean wouldn't complain about not having bacon for one day but he was not going to leave the milk and bread, that was for sure. After paying, he picked up his bags and headed out to his broken bike and got ready for the long trip home.

Unfortunately halfway down the sidewalk, one of the bags gave way, and the groceries spilled onto the ground, and what was worse, the milk fell on the bread and smashed it.

"Why?" Castiel finally cried, turning his gaze pleadingly upward before he gathered everything together again and trudged home.

Nearly half an hour later after stepping in gum, then a deep puddle, and the other bag breaking as he tried to escape from a very loud and large dog, Castiel drug himself back into the bunker, his battered groceries cradled in his arms, one foot slopping water on the floor, and feeling utterly exhausted.

Once he had gotten the groceries put away, he made the mistake of taking a trip to the bathroom…only to find too late that there was only one square of toilet paper left and no more anywhere in the bathroom. Humanity was not fun. Not at all.

He decided to cheer himself up with a cup of dark coffee, only to realize that there was no coffee left either.

Castiel decided that it wouldn't be worth trying anything else that day as he was obviously cursed, so he sequestered himself on the couch and watched bad daytime television until Sam and Dean came home. They found him wrapped in a blanket looking like a perturbed burrito and the brothers did a double take.

"Cas, you good?" Dean asked with concern. "You sick?"

"I'm cursed," Cas said dolefully. "Nothing I do today is right, my pants ripped, my bicycle is broken, there's no hot water, and there's no coffee left either, and I can't find the toilet paper at all."

Sam and Dean shared a look, Sam shooting Dean a warning glare not to laugh, before he went to sit next to their friend.

"Everyone has bad days, Cas," Sam told him reassuringly. "That's just part of being human."

"It sucks most days," Dean agreed. "You just gotta learn to roll with the punches and not let it get the better of you."

Castiel sighed but nodded. "Yes, I am beginning to understand that."

"Well, anyway, let's make some dinner, I'm starving," Dean said, heading into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he came back out, calling, "Hey, did you get bacon when you were out?"

Cas groaned and thumped his head back on the pillow. He was going to be glad to crawl into his bed that night.


	9. Cas Learns to Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place in Season 5

Castiel had always found humans to be fascinating creatures, the things they invented being something that fascinated him most. He had to admit, that he hadn't really thought about such things too much before he had met Sam and Dean; certainly, an angel had no need for a microwave or a shower, but he could see how they helped humans with their daily routines.

One contraption he found particularly interesting was the automobile. Yes, they were slow compared to how he traveled, but they were intriguing all the same, the way everything worked together under the hood like a living thing, and like a human body, they sometimes needed fixing. Sometimes when he had nothing else to do, he liked to watch Dean work on his Impala—Castiel would never say so out loud to the hunter, but he didn't entirely understand Dean's obvious love for the machine, nor how he seemed to think it was female as Castiel saw no difference. But he liked to see how the hunter always knew what was wrong with the car when it wasn't running smoothly, how he seemed to know every piece of it. A couple times, when he was in a surprisingly good mood, Dean would even explain to the angel what he was doing, though he had never offered to let him try for himself, and Castiel thought it best not to ask. Dean was very protective of his car, and Castiel didn't want to accidently hurt it.

He couldn't ignore the fact that his grace was weakening by the day, and the more it happened, the harder it got to fly, the more he began thinking that learning how to drive a car might prove to be a useful skill to have. He didn't like to think that the day might eventually come where driving was his fastest mode of transportation, but he also knew that it was a very likely possibility and he thought it better he be prepared if it did happen.

So one day while they were staying at Bobby's between hunts, he awkwardly approached Dean to see if he might be able to help.

"Dean, I was wondering if you might help me with something."

The hunter looked up from a book he had been idly flipping through, eagerly slamming it and looking up. Anything to get out of research. "Sure, Cas, what do you need?"

Castiel shifted on his feet. "I—I would like you to teach me to drive a car."

Dean looked taken aback. "Well…okay, I guess I can do that, but…why are you so interested all of a sudden?"

Castiel shifted again, then let out a small sigh. "It looks so interesting when you and Sam do it. But, I also wish to have something to fall back on. Just in case."

Dean didn't have to ask in case of what. His face showed that he understood well enough and he tactfully didn't take the conversation any further. "Okay then," he said, standing up. "Let's go."

Castiel followed him outside, slightly relieved that Dean had agreed and not teased him about his wanting to learn such a human skill. He was extremely surprised to find them heading toward the Impala.

"Get in," Dean told him and Castiel climbed into the passenger side while Dean slid behind the wheel.

He pulled the keys from his pocket and started the car before turning to Cas. "Okay, so first thing you gotta know is that, you're not going anywhere until you get the car out of park. This is an automatic so you don't have to worry about manually shifting gears; it should be good for your first time driving. Remember to put your foot on the break—that's the one on the left." Castiel looked down to see where Dean's foot was and the hunter grabbed the gear stick and pulled it down. "And then pull this to where it says 'drive' and that gets the car going once you take your foot off the break." He pulled his foot back and put it on the other pedal, making the car go forward. "I'll drive over to the road so you can have a stretch to practice on."

Once they got to the dirt road that led to Bobby's scrap yard, Dean cut the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition, opening the door. "Your turn," he said and handed Cas the keys as he got out and moved around to the other side while Castiel slid into the driver's seat with sudden trepidation. He suddenly felt he couldn't remember the exact order of steps and looked sheepishly over to Dean.

"Key first," Dean offered, pointing to the keyhole next to the steering wheel. Castiel slid the key inside carefully and twisted it. The Impala came to life with a growl that nearly startled the angel at first, realizing that he had at least succeeded with that.

"Good," Dean said. "Now foot on the break."

Castiel looked down to make sure he had his foot on the right pedal and pressed down. "Now what?"

"Put it in drive," Dean motioned to the gear stick and an indicator on the dash. "That's the 'd', just pull it down until it indicates the 'd'."

Castiel pulled the stick down, sliding into several different gears until he found the right one.

"Okay," Dean told him. "Now just take your foot off the break, and slowly press down on the gas."

"Is it going to go fast?" Castiel asked worriedly. "I don't want to run into something."

"Well, don't floor it," Dean told him with a laugh. "Because you know if you hurt my baby I'll kill you."

Castiel took this to be truth. It almost made him wish they had chosen another car to drive, but the fact that Dean had even considered to let Cas take his first lesson in his prized vehicle, told the angel just how much he trusted him. So he released the break and as the car started forward, put his foot gently onto the gas pedal.

The sudden lurch, made him scramble for the break pedal again, surprised at how quickly the car had responded. Dean laughed at his surprised expression and shook his head.

"Come on, Cassandra, you can do better than that. There's nothing to run into out here."

"My name isn't Cassandra," Castiel said, slightly confused, but realized that Dean was teasing him and glared at the hunter, determined to prove he could do this. He was an angel after all, a great warrior of God, and he could certainly learn to drive a car if humans did it every day.

He tried again and this time, knowing what was coming, he was better prepared for the lurch as he touched the gas and was able to press a little harder, moving faster down the road as Dean grinned.

"Awesome, you've gotten up to 20 miles and hour. Good job, grandma," he joked.

Castiel drove for a little bit longer, until Dean told him to stop as they would be getting to the main road soon.

"You're doing good so far, wanna try turning around?"

"How does one accomplish that?" Castiel asked.

"You turn the wheel, genius," Dean snorted, reaching over to give the wheel a tug. "Just put 'er in gear and then turn it to the left and you should be able to make it around."

Castiel did as he said, and the Impala turned around at an excruciatingly slow pace. Dean was snickering, unable to help himself and Castiel, frustrated, pressed harder on the gas and slid half off the road, turning the rest of the way with a slight squeal of the tires.

Dean laughed, having been thrown into the door at the sudden move. "Woah, no road rage, yet Cas. We'll get to that in the next lesson. Now drive back toward Bobby's and we'll try it again."

Castiel drove a little faster this time, and as the lesson continued, with Dean's patient instructions, he found he was growing more and more comfortable with driving the Impala, even understanding why humans enjoyed it so much. It was rather fun. Finally he was able to make the turn at the end of the road a lot faster and still stay on the road as he did it, and Dean decided that was enough of their lesson for one day.

"Drive back to Bobby's and you can turn in and park," Dean told him.

"How did I do?" Castiel asked anxiously as he drove back toward the entrance of Singer Salvage.

"Not bad," Dean said sincerely. "Better than Sammy his first time. But then I started teaching him before he had his growth spurt and he could hardly reach the pedals, poor aspiring sasquatch." Dean shook his head fondly at the memories. Castiel smiled, happy to see Dean relaxed again. If teaching him to drive could make him forget his troubles for a while, then Castiel was even more willing to learn than before.

He made a careful turn into the driveway and then another toward the place Dean usually parked, but seemed to miss a post sticking out of the ground. Dean tried to warn him, but it was too late and Castiel braked too slowly to avoid running the front fender into the post.

He sat there horrified at what he had done as Dean sat stone-faced, looking as if he were trying to contain his anger.

"I'm—sorry, Dean," Castiel said quietly.

Dean took a deep breath and shook his head. "Happens to everyone, Cas. You'll just have to help me fix it."

"I'll do whatever you need me too," Castiel replied humbly.

"First get out of the driver's seat," Dean told him and Castiel cut the engine and slid back into the passenger seat as Dean came around to drive the rest of the way. "Seriously though, dude. I know it wasn't your fault," Dean told him, as he parked in his usual spot. "But I am totally getting payback for this."

"Of course, Dean, it is only fair," Castiel agreed, though not without some trepidation.

Three days later, Castiel found out what itching powder was.

 


	10. Cas Finds a Stray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set in Season 9. This is also the first one where his pet cat Trouble makes an appearance :)

The rain beat heavily down on the street as Castiel hurried down the sidewalk, his coat pulled tightly around him. He wished he had an umbrella, but he hadn't figured on it raining—it having been perfectly sunny when he left that afternoon—and he was only going a little ways into town to the library to pick up some new books to read. Unfortunately when he left it had only been sprinkling and he hadn't thought to call Sam or Dean to come get him and it was longer to the bus stop than he remembered so now he was completely drenched.

As he waited there, shivering in the cold autumn rain, he heard a pitiful whimpering sound at his feet and frowned as he looked around for the source of it. It had almost sounded like a human child.

"Hello?" he called, then bent to look under the bench and saw a small bundle or wet fur huddling in the shadows. Frowning deeper, Castiel knelt, his knees getting soaked as he reached under the bench to pull out the creature. It didn't even protest as he brought it into the open, mewling pitifully as he cradled it in his hands and finally saw what it was. A tiny black kitten with one white paw and bright green eyes that reminded him of Dean—although the hunter would probably not be happy with him mentioning that similarity.

"You're all alone out here in the cold?" Castiel asked the kitten, feeling it shiver in his hands as he instinctively held it to his chest. "No family? No children to look after you?"

The kitten mewled again and burrowed into Castiel's chest, seeking his body heat. It was a tiny thing and looked so entirely pitiful it brought a rueful smile to his face. He wasn't sure what to do with it. He couldn't leave it out there, but would it be welcomed in the bunker? Surely it would be fine at least until it dried off and got fed up a bit. It was so skinny Castiel could feel its bones clearly through its wet fur.

But then, not so long ago, Castiel himself had been a frozen, wet stray who looked little better than the kitten when the reaper found him and then proceeded to torture and stab him after making him think he could trust her. Castiel didn't want someone else to find the kitten who would mistreat it, and surely the tiny creature wouldn't last the night left out there on its own.

"Very well, you shall come home with me, little one," Castiel told the kitten, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat as he saw the bus was coming. The kitten cuddled against his chest and he heard it purr slightly. "We'll both get home and dry off," he told it as he stepped on the bus and paid his fare.

He left the bus with his new companion several blocks from where the bunker was on the road and he started off on the walk that was a lot longer in the rain.

He was chilled to the bone by the time he got to the entrance of the bunker and was glad to get into the place he had come to call home. "A few more minutes, you'll be all dry and warm," he promised the kitten who seemed to have fallen asleep in his pocket.

Sam was in the library when Cas came in and laughed. "You're soaked. You should have called so Dean could pick you up on his way back from town. Better get dried off or you might catch a cold."

"I definitely do not want that again," Castiel replied. He had not been happy with his first human experience of being sick. At just that moment, the kitten woke up and mewed, scrabbling around his pocket. Sam frowned, looking at him strangely.

"Cas, is your coat moving?"

Castiel looked sheepish as he cast a glance around. "Where's Dean?"

"He made a supply run. What's up?"

"I hope he won't be angry," Castiel replied as he reached into his coat. "But I couldn't leave it there." He scooped the kitten out and held it up for Sam to see.

The younger Winchester grinned upon sight. "You picked up a stray?"

"It was all alone and wet. I don't think it's been fed for a while. It's only a baby."

Sam's heart melted at the sight of the wet ex-angel holding the tiny bedraggled kitten and couldn't get the idea of a kid saying 'can I keep it?' out of his head. How many times had he asked Dean that as a kid and been told no. On course they could hardly feed themselves back then, let alone whatever stray animal Sam had picked up off the streets, but now they could afford it, and there was no reason they couldn't keep the kitten. The fact that Dean would be annoyed by it made all the more reason he should keep it.

"That's okay, Cas, I'm sure Dean won't mind. Why don't I dry the little guy off while you go change?"

Reluctantly, Castiel handed his charge over to the younger Winchester whose giant hands dwarfed the tiny kitten almost comically. Cas went to change and have a quick shower to warm up and when he got back he saw Sam had wrapped the kitten in a towel and was rubbing it dry as it purred happily. He smiled at Cas as he came in.

"He's a little more lively now that he's not so wet and cold. Here you can take him while I get some milk. I think that's all we have that he'll eat at the moment."

Castiel accepted the kitten back and sat down in a chair, watching with a fond smile as the tiny black head poked out of the towel and mewed again. He stroked the soft, newly dry, fur with a finger. He realized he was already awfully attached to the kitten. Probably against his better judgment. But he had a soft spot for strays, especially now after he had been no better.

Sam brought a small bowl with some milk in it to the table and Castiel placed the kitten down so it could eat. He hurried toward the bowl almost instantly and started to lap it up.

"Wow, he's really hungry," Sam said, grinning as he watched the kitten's tiny pink tongue flicking out to drink the milk.

"He's very skinny, I think he hasn't eaten well for a while," Castiel said.

"Probably not if he was a stray kitten."

"Why does no one want him?"

"There's a ton of stray cats who have kittens. It's just something that happens all the time."

"Well, I'm glad I found this one," Castiel replied as he watched fondly while the kitten ate.

Dean came back to see his brother and Cas standing around something on the table. He frowned. "Hey, what's up? What…the hell…?"

He leaned over Cas' shoulder and saw the tiny kitten licking the last of the milk out of the bowl.

"Um, what is that?" Dean asked.

"It's a kitten," Castiel replied with some small sarcasm that he had been learning.

"I know what it is," Dean said impatiently. "I'm wondering why it's here. On the table."

"Cas found it on the way home," Sam explained, fighting the grin he wanted to show at the look on his brother's face.

"So what, we're taking in strays now?" Dean demanded.

"He was half drowned and alone, I couldn't leave him in good conscious," Castiel told the hunter.

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned. "I am allergic to cats, you know."

"We never did prove that," Sam retorted.

"Still."

"Oh come on, even you know you couldn't throw the poor thing out. Besides, Dean, he has your eyes," Sam commented, finally unable to help snorting a laugh.

"Oh that's it," Dean groaned. "Fine, keep it until it gets back to health or whatever, but after that it's out of here."

"Whatever you say, Dean," Sam said with a secret smile and wink to Cas who looked like he was going to protest. He knew his brother well enough to figure that after a week or two Dean would allow himself to admit that the kitten had reluctantly grown on him. Even if he never really did it out loud.

~~~~~~~

That night the kitten slept on the pillow beside Cas, but sometime during the night it crawled onto his chest and that was how Dean found them when he went to wake Cas up for breakfast the next morning.

"Oh hell," he muttered to himself because Cas looked like a freaking five-year-old with the tiny kitten cuddled on his stomach like its own personal heating pad. There was probably no hope of getting rid of the mangy cat now.

And that was only the start of it. The kitten followed Cas everywhere like he was its mom or something. Always under his feet or sitting in his lap and once he had even followed the ex-angel into the shower and gotten soaked which hadn't made him very happy so Cas proceeded to cuddle the kitten in a towel for the next hour while it dried off and he apologized continuously. Dean didn't even know his friend, anymore.

And that wasn't the worst part either. Sam took every opportunity to play with the kitten and was always giving it a bowl of milk or something that would make the kitten fat before he knew what hit him. And then he and Cas went to town and bought pet things and set up a corner for the kitten in the library of the bunker. No matter how many times Dean had insisted that cats were pets only owned by chicks and witches, his brother and friend didn't seem to pay him any heed.

Dean had to remember to watch his step whenever Cas came into a room because the kitten was not far behind and it would play under the table when they were researching and always seemed to want to grab Dean's shoelaces or the ties of Dean's bathrobe (or Dead-Guy robe as Sam called it). In fact it seemed to exclusively pick on the elder Winchester as if it knew it annoyed him most. Animals always seemed to pick on the people they knew didn't care for them.

However, the final straw came when Dean walked into the kitchen to find the unattended kitten eating his pie.

"Alright, that's it," he growled, and grabbed the protesting kitten by the scruff of his neck and carried him out to Sam and Cas who were watching TV in their small converted living room. He dumped the angry kitten into Cas' lap.

"He just ate my pie, either put him on a leash or he goes."

"He's just a kitten, Dean, he doesn't know any better," Sam tried to calm his brother. "Come on, you know you like him."

"No, I don't. People who eat my pie usually get punched in the face," Dean growled, crossing his arms over his chest and casting a baleful look at the kitten who, seeming to sense his anger, hurried to hide under Cas' arm.

"We never did come up with a name for him," Sam mused, ignoring his brother on purpose and turning to Cas.

"Trouble," Dean spat as he left the room to sulk about his pie.

So Trouble it was.

As the weeks passed, Dean tried to ignore the cat as much as possible, though it was pretty obvious that they would have to figure something out with Trouble because it wasn't like they could just pack him up and take him on hunts with them. Although Sam did offer that animals were specially attuned to the supernatural and would be a great ghost detector. Dean didn't even grace that with an answer.

Then Dean caught a cold and was laid up for a few days. They had gotten a call from another hunter about a vamp nest a few towns over, and Sam and Cas had left him to rest because you can't exactly hunt vamps when you were sneezing your head off. So he was designated to kitten watching duty, much to his chagrin.

Trouble wasn't happy his favorite humans were gone and mewled pitifully for almost a day, driving Dean nearly insane. Finally, he lay down on the couch to sleep through daytime television and startled as something jumped onto his legs. He looked down and groaned as he saw Trouble sitting there, watching him.

"What do you want?" he grunted as the kitten mewed and somehow took that as an invitation to crawl up Dean's body and burrow into the hoodie he was wearing, poking his head out the halfway unzipped jacket as he settled onto Dean's warm middle.

"Oh, so that's how it is? Not even gonna ask first?" Trouble purred and curled up in a ball, closing his eyes. Dean rolled his own and hesitantly reached up to stroke the kitten's head.

"Alright, just this once though. I can't have anyone thinking I've gone soft." Dean closed his own eyes and was soon asleep, lulled by the warm, purring ball of fur vibrating gently on his stomach.

Sam and Castiel came back a couple hours later to the sight of Dean snoring on the couch, one hand resting over the sleeping form of Trouble still curled up on top of him. They grinned at each other as Sam snapped a picture with his phone for future blackmail.

"See? I told you he would warm up to him," the younger Winchester said as he pulled a blanket over his brother and the kitten.

"We'll pretend we didn't notice," Cas said with a smile. "Dean doesn't like anyone to know he's going soft."

They tip-toed out of the room, knowing that the bunker had now officially gained another stray to add to Team Free Will.


	11. Cas is a Guardian Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set in Season 9

For a long time Castiel held out hope that being human might somehow get easier, and sure, sometimes he was able to forget his predicament for a while or feel the pain dulled a bit, but it was still constantly there—his mortality staring him in the face in glaring ways each and every day. He might be better at acting human now, at least with the basics, but there were still things that stumped him every day. Just the smallest things proved to be major discomforts, like paper cuts and forgetting to brush his teeth before bed or not showering for a few days and feeling grimy and uncomfortable. These things were humiliating but there were the harder things like getting sick, getting hurt, exhaustion, and hunger that drove him down more and more. The things he couldn't dwell on or he would only succeed in making himself more depressed than he already was.

Sam and Dean really did their best to try and cheer him up, but sometimes even that made him feel worse, although he would never let his friends know that, because he would never want them to stop. Instead, he made some time to himself so he could think things over, better contemplate his position and try to think of ways he could benefit from it. Other times he just liked to watch humans and see how they went about their lives. He would never stop being fascinated with them, especially now when he was one himself. If nothing else, this curse could really heighten his appreciation for what Sam and Dean had gone through and survived all those years. Castiel might have been an ex-angel, but Sam and Dean were stronger humans than he would ever be. He was sure he could never withstand half as much as they did on a regular basis.

But it was the children he liked to watch most. They were so alive, so full of imaginative ideas that might have seemed strange to most people, but Castiel found charming and in a way simple. They didn't let problems get in the way; they simply solved them or moved on. He envied their naivety more than he was willing to admit. In a way, he was like them, new to life, at least in this form, but he did not share their innocence and that was the quality he most loved in the children. A lot of times, he would ride his bike to the park to walk or sit quietly and watch them play their little games and listen to their discussions that always brought a smile to his lips.

There was a day care in town and across the street from it, a park that Castiel liked because it was within bicycling distance and had a large pond where he would feed the ducks. He also liked the ducks; they were enjoyable companions to have. The children at the park would chase them around, but the waddling, fat, bread-fed water birds didn't seem to mind, in fact, they seemed to think it was a game.

One day Castiel was walking around the pond and scattering breadcrumbs for a family of little ducklings when several children came in sight with a bag of bread and their conversation caught his ear.

"My mommy said that we all have a guardian angel to watch over us," one little girl said. "They come whenever you're in trouble."

"Like a super hero?" a boy asked.

The girl nodded. "Yup! Whenever you need them they swoop in and make sure you don't get hurt."

"How do you get one?" the other little girl asked. "I want a guardian n'angel."

"You already have one, silly!" the first girl said. "They come to you when you're a baby."

"How do they know you're in trouble?" the boy asked. "Do they stay in a place like a fire house and then come get you when you need them?"

"Are they invisible?" asked the second little girl.

"I don't know," the first girl said. "But they always know. Maybe they're right here now, watching us."

"Maybe they're disguised as ducks!" the boy said with a giggle.

"No, silly!" the girl giggled too and shoved him, grabbing the bread bag. "Give me the bread, I want to feed them before you throw it all away!"

Castiel watched with a fond smile on his face, but his chest ached at the topic of their discussion. He wished it was all as simple as that, he wished he could go back to being able to watch out for Sam and Dean instead of them watching out for him. The tables had been turned too sharply too soon and he was going to take a very long time to adjust to his situation, especially as it was looking more and more like it was going to be permanent. Some things were just never going to get easier.

He continued to feed the ducks and watched the kids as they played and fought over the bread until their mothers called them back that it was time to go and after they left Castiel went back to where he had parked his bike and rode slowly home, his heart still heavy.

Sam seemed to notice something was wrong when he came in and rustled around the kitchen, looking for something to eat, a sigh on his lips and a slump in his shoulders.

"Hey, anything wrong, Cas?" he asked kindly as he poured himself a glass of milk to drink with some cookies.

Castiel shrugged. "I suppose I am just a bit depressed. I don't think this situation will ever get easier, and I just feel continuously reminded of what I lost. Especially the fact that I can no longer look after you and Dean like I did originally. I fear that one day one of you will be severely injured during a hunt because I can't watch your back sufficiently."

Sam scoffed. "Cas, you can still kick our asses, even human. Just because you don't have your mojo doesn't mean you lost your fighting skills. You're still more technically skilled than Dean or I will ever be."

Castiel decided to join Sam with the cookies, and poured another glass of milk. "I know I should be thankful for the abilities I still have, and that I am still alive—it could be much worse, I know. But it is hard to lose powers you have, especially when you tried to use them to help people."

"I know," Sam said, nodding knowingly, and swallowing hard, thinking of his bout with the demon blood and how he had thought he was doing the right thing and obviously how that had turned out. Castiel saw his discomfort, and offered a small smile.

"I will get used to it, or at least learn how to cope, eventually, I suppose."

Sam smiled back, patting the ex-angel on the shoulder. "You know Dean and I are here to help you, man, and it's not a problem. Stop thinking you're not as useful as you once were. We don't care about that; you're family. That's all that matters."

Castiel nodded, but secretly he wasn't sure, and he didn't really feel better on the inside. Maybe that was something he would get over too, but he doubted he ever would.

He tried to forget his troubles, but for the next week he felt a bit down. Sam and Dean tried to keep his spirits up, making food he liked, and the three of them even went to see a movie in town since they hadn't had a hunt for a couple weeks. It did help a bit, and surely their efforts touched him, but he still felt slightly depressed and almost wished for another hunt so he would have something to do, and a way to prove that he was still able to do things even without his grace.

He almost skipped his weekly trip to the park because last time it had brought up many things he had wished to forget, but he couldn't quite bring himself not to go. He still loved watching the children and it hadn't been their fault their imaginative banter had made him sad. So he took his bike and rode out, the exercise already making him feel better.

But when he got within sight of the park, a commotion across the street caught his eye, and he instantly smelled smoke and saw a dark cloud of it rising over the surrounding area. He rode faster, until he saw a bunch of people standing outside the day care, herding screaming and crying children away from the building which seemed to be on fire. Castiel parked his bike on the side of the road and hurried over to see what was going on.

"What's happening?" he asked a woman who was wringing her hands worriedly, a cell phone clutched in one of them.

"A fire started in the back room, we're not sure how yet, but it's spreading pretty quickly. The fire department is on its way, but they're all the way across town."

"Are all the children out?" Castiel asked.

The woman opened her mouth to reply but there was a sudden whump and a burst of heat came from the building as windows shattered and flames burst out of them. Castiel instinctively shielded the woman as she shrieked, looking back at the building with worry forming a knot in his stomach. He had a bad feeling about this, an unease.

"Get the children away from here!" someone shouted and the screaming children were led farther away from the building.

"Where's Danny and Lisa!" one little girl cried, wiping her tears off. "Are they in the fire?"

One of the day care attendants, crouched next to the girl, and Cas was surprised to see she was the little girl who had accompanied the other who had talked about angels before. The unease in his stomach turned to nausea as he moved closer to hear what was happening.

"We're missing two!" another woman cried.

"Where did you last see them, Courtney?" the woman asked the little girl.

"They went to get paper out of the craft closet!" Courtney cried.

Just then more adults arrived, parents of the children. Some kids ran to them, while one woman stood out, looking around frantically.

"Lisa? Where's Lisa! Where's my daughter?!" she demanded of one of the workers.

"We're still accounting for the children," the woman tried to assure her, but Castiel knew that wasn't acceptable. He quickly hurried to Lisa's mother and touched her elbow.

"You're sure your daughter is not here?" he asked as calmly as possible.

"Yes, she's no where, where is she?!" she screamed again.

"There's two children still in there!" one of the daycare workers screamed. "Where is the fire department?"

"Oh Lord," Lisa's mother said weakly and collapsed to the ground. "My baby's in there?"

"I'll get her out," Castiel assured her. "Don't worry."

"I hear sirens!" one of the people said.

Castiel heard them too, but knew they would never get there in time. He surged forward to the scream of the gathered women, trying to get him to stop, and kicked in the door, covering his face with his jacket as a wall of hot air hit him.

But he wasn't going to stop now. He surged forward, looking around at the burning building, coughing on the smoke and pulling his t-shirt over his mouth and nose to breathe better.

"Lisa!" he called, wondering if she could even heard him in the roar of the fire. "Lisa, can you hear me?"

He hurried forward, crouching low and listening to the building creak as more and more of it burned up. He knew he didn't have a lot of time before it fell in. "Lisa!" His cry ended in a deep cough, but he kept going.

"Help!" a thin scream came and he instantly headed in that direction.

"Lisa?"

"Help, help!"

The sound was coming from behind a closed door, thankfully in the part of the building that wasn't burning so badly, and he winced as the doorknob seared his hand when he opened it. Smoke poured out and when it cleared he found two kids huddling together, Lisa and who he thought must be Danny, the two who were with Courtney last week at the park. They ran toward him as he whipped his jacket off and folded it over them together, hoping it might protect them from the heat.

"Come on, we need to get out of here!" he said. He could hear people shouting from outside and hoped the firemen were coming soon. The building was being more and more engulfed in flame and he knew they wouldn't have much time to spare.

"Are you an angel?" the little girl asked him with wide eyes, between coughs.

Castiel smiled sadly. "No," he replied. "But I will get you out. I promise."

He pushed them ahead of him and was shocked to see how much of the building had been consumed by the fire. The way he had come in was totally blocked.

"Come on, this way," he said, heading for a window he could see.

A huge cracking sounded and he flung himself over the children to keep them safe as fiery debris showered them when one of the support beams fell in. Lisa and Danny screamed and Castiel looked up frantically, seeing the way to the window getting smaller and smaller as the flames came forward. He picked up the children and ran with them the rest of the way, feeling the floor start to give in places as it burned away. He coughed in the smoke, his lungs feeling like they couldn't get enough air, but he had to keep going. He finally got to the window and set the kids down, looking around frantically for something to break the window with.

He finally spotted a chair and pushed the children farther away. "Cover your eyes!" he shouted and waited until they did before he threw the chair at the window in a shower of glass.

Unfortunately, the new outlet made the flames rush toward them and he only had time to snatch the screaming children up and throw them unceremoniously out the window before he felt the searing heat engulf him and then before he knew what was happening, the floor gave out and he fell through with a breathless shout, only feeling a sharp impact before everything went black.

~~~~~~~

Castiel woke, feeling oddly confined and very uncomfortable. His eyes wouldn't open and he felt smothered. Something was on his face, and keeping his body still. He began to panic, an annoying beeping sounding close by that he wished would stop as he raised a hand to his face and felt something hard on his mouth that he couldn't quite grasp. His fingers were clumsy and wouldn't work properly.

Someone cursed nearby and then there was a light pressure on his wrist, another on his shoulder as a familiar voice came to him through his panic.

"Woah, there, buddy, calm down, easy. Try to open your eyes, okay?"

Castiel did try. They felt like the underside of his eye lids was covered in sandpaper and were sore and bleary, but after blinking a few times, Dean's face started to come into focus looking tired, but with a smile on.

"There you go, welcome back to the land of the living."

Castiel frowned and tried to talk, but his voice was coming out muffled and his throat hurt so much tears sprang from his eyes and Dean reached up to put a hand on the side of his neck, squeezing gently to stop him.

"Don't talk, you probably can't anyway. And you've got an oxygen mask on, so stop messing with it. Do you remember what happened?"

Cas shook his head very slightly, even that small movement making his whole body hurt somehow.

"Well, there was a fire at a day care and you ran in to rescue two kids." Ah, that made the memories flash back. Castiel couldn't understand how he was alive now. Dean was shaking his head. "Dude, you're a frickin' hero. It was damn stupid, but you saved those kids."

Castiel looked up at him with a frown, trying to convey he wanted to know what had happened. Dean smiled. "Don't worry, they're fine. They're in here too with only some minor burns and smoke in the lungs, but they'll be fine. You have some very thankful parents out there, dude. You on the other hand are not so good. You got burned up pretty bad on your right side, and you broke a wrist falling through the floor." Castiel looked down at his clumsy hand, which he now realized was in a cast. "Plus you inhaled a crapload of smoke that's gonna make your lungs feel like you're breathing glass for a while." Castiel couldn't argue with that one. Even with the oxygen mask, it hurt to breathe. "You'll recover though," Dean assured him. "But you'll have to stay here a while. The firemen thought you were dead when they pulled you out, had to resuscitate you." He swallowed hard and Castiel could see him reliving some event, either when his mother died or learning Cas had been caught in a fire or both at once. He shook himself and smiled instead. "But you should get some rest, dude, here" he reached over and pushed a button on the machine next to Castiel. "You look like you could use another shot of morphine. Try to sleep."

Castiel felt a warm fuzzy feeling dull the pain in his body and his eyelids closed again, instantly slipping off.

When he woke later, a little more coherent, at least enough to drink something and be able to take the oxygen mask off, he found most of his body under the thin hospital gown covered in bandages. The burns hurt very badly, and his voice was only a very throaty rattle and he knew it was going to be a very long recovery, but he was glad he had saved the children. He knew they wouldn't have survived until the firemen got there.

A few days later, Dean and Sam came into Castiel's room after a coffee break with a surprise for him.

"You have a visitor, Cas," Dean told him.

Castiel frowned, wondering who else would know he was there, but his face brightened when he saw Lisa peek around Sam with a shy smile on her face.

"Hi, Lisa," he said roughly.

She came to the bed and smiled up at him. "Thank you for saving me and Danny from the fire, Mr. Cas. I'm sorry you got hurt. I got burns too, see? They sting bad."

Castiel smiled at her as she displayed her bandaged arms almost proudly. "I hope you feel better soon, Lisa," he said.

"You too, you're a hero," she told him.

"I don't know about that," Castiel replied.

"You are!" she insisted with childish surety. "I would have died!"

Castiel wasn't sure what to reply to that. Lisa didn't seem to mind because she reached into her jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "I drew you a picture to help you feel better, and to say thank you," she told him proudly, presenting the picture to Castiel, and putting it into his un-casted hand.

Castiel's breath caught in his throat. It was a picture of him with wings. Lisa pointed to it. "I know you're not a real angel, Mr. Cas, but Mommy says that sometimes people can be like angels too. And you must be one of those, because my guardian angel took a day off because he knew you would save me."

Castiel smiled, his throat aching with emotion. "Thank you, Lisa, this is beautiful."

She smiled happily. "I hope to see you again, Mr. Cas." Then she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek before heading back out into the hall where her parents waited with Sam and Dean. Castiel looked at the picture again and smiled, the heaviness that had been in his heart for the past couple weeks finally dissipating. True, he may not be an angel anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't still do good and help people. At the end of the day, that was all that really mattered.

 


	12. Cas Delivers a Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place in Season 5

Castiel might have been a warrior but there was definitely something different about being a hunter than an Angel of the Lord. As an angel he usually just received his orders and went out to complete them, but as a hunter there was not only the long distance driving but also the long hours of research and waiting for the monster of the day to show up or to strike again so you could find it.

And then sometimes you found yourself running for your life with a very pregnant woman who had just gone into labor.

Castiel had been helping Dean on hunts for a couple weeks now since Sam had decided they should part ways for the time being and Dean needed an extra hand on the hunt now that Bobby was an invalid. With his own powers reduced, he felt that hunting might help him feel useful again, and while he could never replace the years of experience Sam had shared with Dean, Castiel had come to see that he and the elder Winchester did make a good team—as long as Dean did most of the talking. He could still fight at least, if nothing else.

That was how they got wind of an aswang attacking pregnant women in a town in Ohio. After a few days of searching, they had finally found that the aswang was disguising itself as a nurse in the maternity ward of the local hospital. Unfortunately, before they could take it out, it had snatched a pregnant woman, Sarah, and ran off with her, leaving Dean and Cas in quick pursuit. They cornered it at it's own house, only to find it had a mate. Dean shot the first one and they rescued Sarah, but as they were leaving, they realized too late about the other aswang, just when Sarah started to go into labor and Dean discovered that the aswang had slashed the tires on the Impala. In short, they were in quite a bad situation at present.

That left them running for shelter, knowing that the other aswang had to be close, and even angrier now that they had killed its mate. As of now, it seemed to have disappeared into the surrounding forest, and Dean and Cas were lucky enough to find a foreclosed house down the street they could hole up in.

"What do we do?" Sarah asked as Dean helped her sit down on an abandoned sofa. "This baby's going to come in a come sooner rather than later, we have to get out of here!"

"Just try to calm down," Dean attempted to soothe the distressed woman, wishing Sam had been there with his nice-boy eyes and sappy reassurances. "We'll get this thing and get you to a hospital. I'll try to call an ambulance."

But as they had found out before, there was little to no cell signal where they were so far outside of town, and there seemed to be none inside the house. Dean cursed as he threw the phone down. "Dammit, okay, Cas, help me barricade the windows with what we can find. I only want one entrance for the thing to get inside."

Together, they gathered all the furniture they could find and stacked it against the openings. They were just moving a heavy bookcase in front of the window when a crash sounded on the door and Dean spun around, his gun at the ready, but the aswang hadn't broken through quite yet. Sarah was panting heavily, sounding panicked. Dean hurried over to her, and gripped her shoulder reassuringly.

"It's gonna be all right, you just need to calm down, okay? Breathe!"

But it was easier said than done, as Castiel could plainly see. The woman was terrified, and the aswang kept slamming into the door, possibly with a hammer or axe now. A board splintered and Dean cursed as he backed up, readying himself for when the creature broke through. Castiel had his angel blade at the ready. He wasn't sure if it would kill the creature, but thankfully they had been able to gather what they needed for the weapon before this had happened.

"Oh God, I think it's coming!" Sarah moaned, clutching her stomach.

"Don't worry, Cas and I will get it before it gets to you," Dean assured her.

"No, I meant the baby!" Sarah cried before screaming in pain and curling onto her side.

"Uh…" Dean cast a horrified glance between her and Castiel. The angel looked back at him with a frown. "Cas, go…figure that out. I got this."

The angel was taken aback. "I'm not a midwife, Dean, I don't know how to birth a baby."

"Dude, you're an angel, doesn't that make you qualified?" Dean demanded, glancing back at the door, a board of which had splintered now, showing the aswang outside. "You're better at this kind of crap than me!"

"Help, it's coming!" Sarah cried.

"Um," Castiel said, flustered and fixed a smile onto his face to Dean's coaxing, as he hurried over to Sarah and crouched down, setting his blade aside. "Let's…let's get you comfortable."

"Dude, give her your coat," Dean told him.

Castiel hurriedly shrugged out of his trench coat and spread it over her as he got her situated properly; he tried to remember exactly how things went. Of course he was familiar with the mechanics of birth as such, but he had never actually helped at one, and hadn't really witnessed one up close. He was afraid he was going to do something wrong, and with his depleted powers he would be unable to heal either Sarah or the baby should something happen.

"Have you ever done this before?" Sarah asked him as he rolled up his sleeves and crouched beside her, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

"No, I've never done this," he said truthfully before he wondered if he was supposed to have lied.

"Well, I'm glad you're honest," Sarah said before she screamed again and gripped the couch cushion.

"Cas, you're supposed to tell her when to push!" Dean shouted.

"Push?" Cas asked just as the door exploded inward and the aswang burst inside. Dean put several bullets into it hoping to phase it for a moment as he readied the other weapon, the flail with the stingray barb on it that was supposed to be able to kill an aswang.

"Is the head showing?" Dean yelled out, glancing over at the screaming woman and the confused angel.

Castiel scrambled to look, wishing there was more light in the place. "Yes," he finally said.

"Then tell her to push and get ready to catch!" He raised the weapon, but the aswang lunged forward and threw Dean backwards through one of the barricades, sending chairs scattering everywhere as the hunter tumbled into the next room. Castiel wasn't sure whether he should help Dean or not, but he was shocked to find Sarah's hand gripping his wrist tighter than he would have expected from a human.

"It's coming!" she gasped and threw her head back with a scream. Castiel hurriedly got ready, feeling what he thought might possibly be panic as he waited for the baby to come, all the time listening to the aswang throw Dean around the next room.

"Push, Sarah," he coaxed. "You're almost there."

With another scream, Sarah pushed and a thin cry sounded out as Castiel caught the baby and held the tiny squalling thing in his hands. He quickly cut the cord as Sarah lay panting and then bundled it into his trench coat, gazing down at this small new life that he had helped bring into the world. A smile touched his lips as he rocked the baby slightly.

"Hello little one," he said softly.

A scream was heard in the other room and he looked up sharply as the sounds stopped. He heard a grunt and then heavy footsteps as Dean staggered back into the room, clutching his side and looking worse for wear.

"Dean," Castiel asked, standing up with the baby still in his arms.

"Got it," Dean gasped out, then smiled as he saw the baby. "Hey, look at that, you're a right midwife, Cas."

"Cas," Sarah said. "Can I hold my baby?"

"Oh, of course," the angel said, putting the tiny thing into her arms as she reached up for it. "It's a boy."

Dean limped over and grinned as he watched the mother and child. "Congratulations, Sarah."

"Thanks," she said. "And thank you for saving us." She smiled up at Dean and then Cas. "You did good, Cas."

The angel smiled a bit bashfully. "I'm just glad it went all right."

"Well, let's get you out of here and back to the hospital," Dean told Sarah. He was finally able to find reception to call an ambulance and they waited until it came, Castiel insisted Dean go as well to get his injuries looked after.

"I'm fine," Dean grunted, but Cas had already determined that he had several cracked ribs and a possible sprained knee.

"We'll have to get new tires for the car anyway," the angel reminded him.

Dean huffed but didn't feel like arguing anymore. An hour later he was bandaged and medicated, and he and Castiel were ready to leave the hospital when Sarah met them.

"Thanks again, both of you," she said with a smile, then handed Cas his coat back. "I thought you would want this."

"Thank you," the angel said, even as Dean opened his mouth in protest. "Have you thought of a name yet?"

Sarah smiled. "I'm going to call him Cas. It will be an interesting story to tell him about how he came into the world."

The angel was stunned but smiled genuinely. "I wish him a happy life."

"Take care, Sarah," Dean said as he leaned against Cas' shoulder to take pressure of his knee while they headed out to the parking lot. He grinned at his friend. "Look at that, Cas. You should go into the business."

"I'm just glad I could help her," Castiel replied as they reached the Impala that the local mechanic had brought there for them with new tires.

"Oh, and dude," Dean said, wincing as he got into the driver's seat. "You need to clean that coat."

Castiel gave a slight smirk at Dean's face, but felt content inside. At least he could still help people. That was all that really mattered to him.


	13. Cas Learns to Swim (the hard way)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place in Season 9

It always seemed that when it came to his human body just when he thought he was getting used to things, something new would come along and throw Castiel completely for a loupe.

This time it was when he realized, too late, that he couldn't swim.

They had found a hunt involving some sort of water creature that was drowning unsuspecting passersby in a lake at a local park, a few towns over from Lebanon. Castiel had instantly offered to join the brothers on the hunt and they set off with harpoons added to their usual arsenal. Cas helped unload them when they pulled up at the park after hours so as not to attract too much attention, despite the fact that Sam thought it would be too dangerous to search the lake at night.

"We have the spotlights?" Dean asked as he took the harpoons from Cas and slung them over his shoulder.

"Got them," Sam replied, shutting the trunk of the Impala. "I still think we should wait until morning."

"And let the locals watch while we kabob nessie? I don't think so," Dean said and started off to the lake. "Besides, now we don't have to ask permission to 'rent' one of the boats."

Sam muttered under his breath, but followed Dean and Cas to the lake where they loaded their stuff up and Castiel looked out to the dark, still water.

"You think it could be something like the Loch Ness Monster?" he asked the brothers.

"There are all sorts of stories about water monsters, even here in the US," Sam said with a shrug. "Like the one up in Lake Champlain. It wouldn't surprise me if there was one here, especially since they put a new dam in about fifty miles to the north of here. Something could easily have gotten trapped in here and the attacks coincide with the construction of the dam."

"Well, whatever it is, it needs to go, or it's just going to have more joggers for breakfast," Dean said, pulling the tarp off of a rowboat with a small outboard motor at the back. "This looks as good as any. Hope the guy who owns this doesn't decide to go for a midnight fishing excursion."

"With what's going on, I doubt it," Sam said as he loaded the spotlights and turned them on, the bright light shining off the dark water and illuminating the area enough for them to see if something was coming. "Let's go."

They shoved the boat into the water and set out, Sam sitting at the back, steering while Castiel took the front with the lights. Dean sat in the middle of the boat with his harpoon at the ready.

"Take her over to the far side, Sammy," Dean said. "That's where most of the joggers were taken. Maybe it lives over there."

There was a small bridge that went over part of the lake connecting the jogging path around the park and most of the people who had been taken had been snatched in that area. No one had really seen what had done it, but clothing and other articles from the missing joggers had turned up caught in the weeds under the bridge.

As they headed over there, Castiel watched the water ahead of them, swinging the light back and forth to see what was down there. He almost missed it, but he blinked and swung the light around just in time to see a big, dark shadow slide through the water just in front of their boat.

"Sam, Dean, I think I saw something," he said, searching with the light.

"What was it?" Dean asked, crouching at Cas's shoulder.

"Something moving under the surface, it was big."

A splash sounded close to their right and all three men spun to look, just in time to see a large flipper disappear under the water.

"Sam, bring her around!" Dean called as Cas searched the water again. Dean was tense beside him, his harpoon ready, gripped in both hands.

Sam did what Dean asked and then cut the engine, taking up the other harpoon. They were all silent just watching for another sign of the creature.

"I don't see any—"

Before Dean could finish his sentence, something knocked into the bottom of their boat and sent them rocking violently. Cas tipped over backwards into Dean almost losing the spotlight over the side. Dean cursed, gripping the side of the boat and looking around as Cas fought to illuminate the surrounding water again.

"There!" Sam shouted, pointing as something that looked like a ridged back broke the surface. The younger Winchester took aim and threw his harpoon, watching it strike the creature with bated breath.

The creature was not happy at all and reared out of the water, showing itself to look like something between the Loch Ness Monster and a crocodile and was about as big as their boat. It made a shrieking sound and slammed into the boat, nearly tipping it. All three men, gripped the sides as Sam fought to get the motor running again and Dean and Castiel scrambled for weapons. Cas had put the spotlight into the bottom of the boat to grab for one of the shotguns they had also brought. He fired off several shots to distract the creature that screamed again and lunged at the ex-angel with a mouth open and full of sharp teeth.

"Cas!" Dean shouted in warning, lunging in front of his friend with the harpoon extended, taking the creature through the neck with it.

The monster instantly went insane, tossing around in its death throes so violently that it crashed into the boat rocking it violently. Cas was already unbalanced but he was unable to duck when he was hit by the harpoon sticking out of the creature's neck. It caught him in the chest and he was flung over the side.

"Cas!" Sam yelled before the monster crashed into the boat again and the whole thing turned over.

It was dark now that the spotlight was underwater, and Cas floundered and sputtered as he tried to stay on top of the water, get over to the boat to have something to hold on to. He was trying not to panic, but he couldn't seem to stay above water. He heard Sam and Dean calling for him, but his ears were filling with water, and he was sinking fast. He flailed his arms, trying to swim, but he realized suddenly that he didn't know how and it was harder than it looked. His clothes were heavy and dragging him down—and he was sinking. He could no longer keep his head above water, he was sinking into the blackness, his lungs aching for want of breath. He clawed at the surface above his head, but it only made him sink further. His chest ached and within another second his mouth opened instinctively to gulp for air, but only water went in. It was filling his lungs, he couldn't breathe and the panic was turning into a fuzzy darkness that surrounded him like water and he allowed himself to slip into it, unable to stop it.

~~~~~~~

Dean grabbed the side of the upturned boat and then reached out a hand to snag Sam's sodden jacket, hauling him over next to him, the younger Winchester coughing and gagging as the churned water splashed into his mouth. The creature was only twitching now, nearly dead. The only problem was that Dean couldn't find Cas.

"You see Cas?" he asked Sam, looking around frantically.

"No," Sam said, coughing, then called out, "Cas? Hey Cas!"

Dean cursed, spinning around. "He only fell off a couple seconds before we did, you don't think he got injured did he?"

"I don't know," Sam said, fumbling in his pocket and pulling out a waterproof flashlight, which he handed to Dean. "Here."

Dean took it and shone it in the water. It was too dark to see much. "I'm going under," he said only hearing Sam call to him before he dove and shone the light, hoping it would do some good in the murky lake. Still no Cas. He came up for air then went down again, swimming further away from the boat. He shone the light back and forth until he finally saw a dark shape in the water below him and it wasn't the monster. Pale skin shone through the darkness and Dean instantly swam down, reaching out to grab the front of Cas' shirt and drag him up with him to the surface.

He gasped out a breath as he came up, dragging Cas' limp form with him, getting am arm around his chest as he fought to see if he was all right.

"Cas?" He called, shaking his friend then putting his ear to his mouth, unable to detect any breathing. "Damn it, Cas!"

"Dean!" Sam called, swimming over to him. "Is he okay?"

"Don't know, we need to get him to shore, help me," Dean commanded.

They abandoned the boat and swam to the nearest shore, each taking one of Cas' arms and dragging him along. They pulled him up onto the ground and Sam checked for a pulse as Dean checked again for breath, putting the blade of his knife close to his lips and nose.

"Nothing," he said as Sam looked up with a worried expression.

Dean didn't waste any time, and tilted Cas' head back, making sure his airway was clear before he started CPR.

"Come on, Cas, don't die like this, you damn idiot," he said, shaking his head as he started compressions on his friend's chest. "Come on, man..."

~~~~~~~

Castiel came to in a rush, water gushing out of his mouth as he tried to claw his way upright, feeling as if he couldn't breathe. Someone pulled him into a sitting position as he coughed and was vaguely aware of someone slapping him on the back and more hands touching his shoulder and his knee to steady him. He curled around himself, feeling like he was going to hack his lungs out with the water, his chest feeling like a heard of wild horses had galloped across it. When he was finally done and could draw a shaky breath, he collapsed limply against the solid figure behind him who instantly wrapped a steadying arm around his shoulders.

"Cas, you good now?"

Dean's face came into focus, the hunter kneeling in front of him, a hand on his knee as he leaned forward, worry clear on his face.

Cas breathed a few more times and coughed again, clutching his chest before he answered. "Dean?"

The elder Winchester sagged back on his heels, running a hand over his face in relief. "You scared the crap out of me, man, why didn't you tell me you couldn't swim?"

Castiel blinked with a frown. "I…didn't know I couldn't. I never really had occasion to try it out. And as an angel I didn't need to breathe either, so…"

"Well, we're just glad you're okay now," Sam said from behind him.

Cas frowned. "I'm not sure I agree, my chest feels like I've been run over by a car."

Sam chuckled. "That's because Dean had to resuscitate you. Hope he didn't break any ribs."

"I did not break any ribs, Cas," Dean replied, rolling his eyes, but he still looked too relieved to be angry. "Now the hunt's done, thankfully, so lets get back home. We have a long drive and we're wet and cold." He stood and reached down to pull Cas to his feet. The ex-angel pretty much just leaned against him and Sam as they hauled him back toward the car. His chest and lungs ached and he was weak from the drowning experience, but going back to the bunker and taking a hot shower sounded like a good idea so he tried his best to walk back to the Impala.

"Thank you for saving me, Dean," he mumbled tiredly as the elder Winchester helped him into the back seat and passed him one of the blankets they kept. "It was…frightening feeling so helpless."

"Hey, it's what we do," Dean told him, then added, "But you totally owe me for having to give you the 'kiss of life'. I'm hitting the Listerine when we get back."

"The…what?" Castiel asked, frowning as Sam laughed at him.

"Never mind, Cas, Dean's just being a jerk. It's you who should hit the Listerine."

"Hey!" Dean protested, glaring at his younger brother who smirked as a blanket was thrown into his face. "The thanks I get for saving someone's life." He started the car, and they were soon on the road.

Another hunt finished, and another thing Cas had to figure out about his new position. He was going to learn to swim as soon as he could.

 


	14. Cas Goes to the Dentist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during Season 9 (This is also Trouble!Verse meaning his pet kitty Trouble makes an appearance)

It was no secret that Cas was rather fond of candy. When he was newly human, Dean had introduced him to all kinds of it, seeing what he liked best, despite Sam's disapproval, which resulted in Dean telling him it was only natural—an obvious barb to his younger brother. Castiel had tried candy bars, and fruity candy, and candy Dean said was for movies, but he hadn't liked the licorice, which got Sam's approval but made Dean look at him with a scowl and a shake of his head. But he had liked most of what he had tried, and probably took the opportunity to eat it more than he should have. He wasn't sure if this was something he had gotten from Jimmy Novak like the hamburger addiction, or if he was simply just naturally a sweet tooth, but either way, he couldn't get enough—and at long last he decided that Butterfingers and Reece's were his favorite.

He and Dean stocked up on half price candy after Halloween and Sam watched disapprovingly as they unloaded the multiple shopping bags onto the table in the Men of Letters library. He did taste some with them anyway, but smirked at Dean and Cas in an 'I told you so' fashion when they both got stomach aches from eating too much—coincidentally, the first real stomach ache Cas had ever gotten. It wasn't pleasant, but it didn't stop him from eating candy either, just exercising moderation. In any case, their kitten Trouble enjoyed playing with the wrappers that littered the floor under the table until Sam got tired of them and swept them up.

"Dean, this place is getting to be a disaster!" the younger Winchester complained. "And you can't even be bothered to clean it up yourself!"

"Don't look at me, Cas is just as much to blame!" Dean said from where he was lying on the couch, nursing his aching stomach.

Cas felt like he would be sick if he moved, and grunted in protest as Trouble jumped up onto his stomach before curling at his side. "Sorry, Sam."

Sam shook his head before turning back to Dean. "You're a bad influence."

"Dude, again with the blame," Dean protested.

Cas petted Trouble and decided he was definitely not going to eat so much candy next time.

Soon enough though, he found out that too much sugar caused more then just stomach aches. A few weeks later, he began to notice a pain in his left jaw, whenever he chewed too much on that side, or when something really cold touched it. He wasn't sure what it was, and simply ignored it for a while, until it got worse and worse, until he could hardly touch it with his toothbrush without it sending jolts of pain through his jaw. He started getting headaches to accompany it and couldn't even sleep on that side or eat anything he had to chew. After several days of him turning down food, and only eating oatmeal and chocolate milk, Dean and Sam started to notice.

"Hey, Cas, are you feeling all right?" Sam asked him one morning at breakfast when Cas simply sat with his cup of coffee, looking like he hadn't slept and wincing whenever he took a sip.

"I'm…not sure," he said, decided he should tell them. "There's a pain in my jaw."

"You get hit or something?" Dean asked, already leaning over the table, his protective brother instinct flaring. "You have a fever?"

"No, I don't think so," Cas shook his head. "And I don't think I'm sick, it's just on the bottom left side of my jaw, here." He only barely touched the place on his cheek and winced in pain. Dean frowned and got up to go see to Cas.

"Open up," he commanded and Cas dutifully opened his mouth as Dean peered inside.

"I don't really see anything, though it does look a little red around that area. How long has this been going on?"

"Maybe a week?" Cas replied. "It wasn't so bad at first."

"You should have told me," Dean said with a frown as Sam also got up.

"You've probably got a cavity or something," Sam said to Cas.

Cas frowned. "I believe the human body has several parts of the anatomy labeled cavities…"

Sam huffed a laugh. "No, Cas, a dental cavity, like a rotten spot in you tooth. And with all the candy you like to eat, it's no wonder."

Cas clapped a hand to his jaw. "My teeth are rotting out?"

"No, only part of one," Sam assured him quickly.

"How do you stop it?"

"You go a dentist, they take care of it," Sam said. "Which you should probably do before it gets worse."

"Oh, I suppose, if that's what you think is best," Cas said. "I would like it to stop. It hurts very badly."

"Okay, I'll take you to the one in town today when I go pick up groceries. I think they take walk-ins," Dean said. "Have some oatmeal or whatever you can eat and then we'll go."

An hour later, Dean was parking the Impala outside the local dentist office. Cas followed him inside and waited while Dean talked—and flirted—with the young woman at the reception desk, collecting all the paperwork she gave him that he brought back to Cas who had taken a seat and was looking at a large fish tank on one side of the room. Dean sat down next to him and showed him the paperwork, explaining as he filled it out for the ex-angel. "Good thing we got you this fake insurance card," Dean said with a grin, looking around to make sure no one heard that. He filled out the info for "Cas Novak" the name on the card, and made Cas sign it.

"I don't have a signature," the ex-angel protested.

"Just make one up," Dean hissed, and Cas signed as Dean gathered the papers and went back to the front desk before sitting back down with Cas. He flipped through the magazines on a table, pulling faces at the health and home titles before he sighed and turned to his friend.

"Hey, Cas you think you could be a big boy and do this by yourself while I go run some errands? Heather at the desk said you should get in within fifteen minutes so you won't have to wait long."

Cas frowned at him. "I think I can handle it."

"Okay, then," Dean said, clapping a hand on his shoulder and standing up. "Just remember not to bite the dentist's fingers."

"I won't bite anyone, Dean," he said with some indignation.

"Great," Dean grinned. "See you later, buddy."

Cas watched Dean go, feeling a little trepidation enter him, but pushed it aside. What was there to be worried about? It couldn't be that difficult or frightening to go to the dentist, people went every day, and even children. In fact, one was going in right now, a little girl holding one of the nurses' hands. But then, about five minutes later, she started to scream, and Cas swallowed hard, wishing he had the familiar weight of his angel blade in his hand.

"Mr. Novak?"

It took him a moment to realize he was being called and he smiled, standing up and greeting the dental nurse.

"That's me," he said.

"Great," she smiled. "Come with me, we'll get you settled."

Cas followed her back into the office. The little girl was still screaming, and he couldn't help but wonder if it would have been better if he had asked Dean to stay.

~~~~~~~

Dean was just starting the weekly shopping at the grocery store when his phone rang. He grumbled and reached into his pocket, figuring it was Sam but frowning when he saw Cas' name on the caller ID. He answered the call. "Cas? You done already?"

"Hello, is this Dean Winchester?"

Dean stopped and frowned harder as he heard a female voice on the other end. "Yes, who is this?"

"I'm Laura Holland from the dental office, you were listed as Mr. Novak's emergency contact."

Dean's stomach plummeted. "Emergency contact? Is he all right?" He was already heading out of the store.

"Calm down, Mr. Winchester, he is all right psychically, but he seems to be having some sort of panic attack. I thought it would be best for someone he knows to be here."

"I'm on my way," Dean ended the call, and sped out of the parking lot back to the dentist office. What the hell could have caused Cas to have a panic attack in a dentist office? He wracked his brains for anything that might fit, going so far as to wonder if it was some strange allergic reaction to fluoride or something. When he got there he burst in, startling some of the people in the waiting room, one mother gathering her child to her protectively, as Dean looked around.

"Mr. Winchester," a middle-aged blond woman called to him from the hallway, beckoning him toward her, Dean followed instantly. "I'm Laura, I'm the one who called you."

"Where is he? What happened?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely sure what happened," she said, calmly, leading him down the hall. "I just brought him back to get ready for the examination and when I led him into the room he sort of got this terrified look on his face. It's not uncommon, a lot of people are scared of the dentist, but when I suggested he sit down and relax for a moment in the chair he began to shake and when I tried to touch his arm he just, well, he pretty much jumped out of his skin and I wasn't sure if I should approach him after that."

They had reached the end of the hall to a door that was partially opened, another dental nurse standing there like a guard. "He's in there," Laura told him.

"Okay, can you leave us alone for a minute?" Dean asked her.

She nodded and motioned for the other nurse to step away. Dean quickly pushed into the room and frowned, not seeing Cas instantly, but he heard the sort panicked breathing and something that sounded close to a whimper coming from one corner of the room and he turned and saw the ex-angel sitting behind a set of drawers, his arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees, rocking slightly back and forth. Dean's eyes widened in shock. He had never seen his friend like this before and it scared him. What could have caused this?

"Cas?" he called softly, approaching him slowly before crouching and crawling the last couple feet so as not to startle him. "Cas, it's Dean, what's going on with you?"

His whole body was shuddering and when he didn't answer, Dean reached out to touch his shoulder. Cas jerked, crying out, his eyes wild and frightened, but when he saw it was Dean, he seemed to relax slightly, though not entirely, Dean saw.

"Cas, buddy, what's wrong?" Dean asked, he grabbed one of Cas' shoulders and squeezed, hoping it might ground him. It seemed to work, because the ex-angel relaxed slightly.

"I didn't…I didn't know," he said finally, his voice sounding small.

"Know what?" Dean asked.

"It—it looks…" Cas swallowed hard his breathing getting fast and shallow again. "It looks like where she…where she…" He shook his head and shocked the hunter by surging forward and gripping his jacket, his eyes wide with fear. "I don't want to go back, Dean! I can't let her into my head again!"

"Woah, woah, Cas, calm down," Dean said, forcing the death grip off his jacket and gripping Cas' shoulder and the back of his neck, trying to get him to focus on him but he had a bad feeling about where this was going. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't let her in my head, Dean, I might hurt you again!"

Dean swallowed hard, taking a guess as to who Cas meant. "You mean Naomi?"

Cas shuddered and Dean shook him slightly. "Hey, she's dead, Cas, remember? You don't have to worry about her again. But what does this have to do with Naomi?"

Cas swallowed hard, seeming to try to get a hold of himself. "This place…it looks like where she used to…used to 'fix' me." He curled up tighter into himself, looking at the floor his own disgust at the term making Dean taste bile in the back of his throat. "There was a chair like that she would strap me in and the tools—she would drill into my head…"

"Damn, Cas," Dean breathed, horror filling his stomach. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it would be a problem. I wasn't ready for it, and I couldn't stop the reaction when I saw—I just…panicked. I hope I didn't frighten the nurse."

"It's okay," Dean said, patting his shoulder reassuringly and then smiling to take the edge off. "I'm sure she has little kids do the same all the time."

Cas offered a half-hearted frown, as Dean finally stood up and helped him to his feet.

"Now," the hunter said seriously. "You do have a tooth ache, that hasn't changed, so do you feel like you can at least let the dentist look at it and see what has to be done?"

Cas hesitated, casting worried glances at the chair. "I…suppose."

"I'll stay in here with you if you want," Dean offered, with a self-conscious shrug.

Cas reluctantly nodded. "All right."

Dean led him out of the room where he found Laura standing a little way down the hall, looking relieved to see Cas on his feet. She cast a questioning look at Dean.

"Sorry about that," he said. "He had a, um, childhood trauma. Hasn't been to the dentist in years and I guess it all came back."

Laura smiled. "Understandable. There's nothing to be ashamed of, we have a lot of people who are afraid to come here."

"He says he's ready now though, if that's still okay," Dean told her. "But is it all right if I stay with him?" He left no room for argument and Laura seemed to see that because she nodded.

"Of course, come on then, Mr. Novak, let's get you settled and see what's going on with the tooth."

Cas hesitated before sitting in the chair and trembled once he did, but Dean moved around to stand at his shoulder, and Laura allowed him to stay upright, using a small penlight to look into his mouth instead. Cas winced as she prodded the sore area, and grunted in discomfort. Laura took several minutes to look around and then finally stepped back.

"Well, you definitely have a cavity, and a pretty bad one in that one tooth. It's no wonder it's so painful. I'm going to take some x-rays but I think we're looking at this needing a possible root canal."

Cas looked at Dean. "What's that?"

"It's not much different than getting a cavity filled," he said, then added quietly. "I'll explain it later."

Laura took Cas to get the x-rays and confirmed her fears. Dean wasn't looking forward to explaining the procedure to Cas, especially after what the ex-angel had told him about Naomi—what the hell had been wrong with the psycho chick? They made an appointment for the root canal the next day, knowing that the sooner they got it done the better, then Dean pulled Laura to the side.

"Look, he has a thing about drills, and all that, and I'm afraid getting the root canal might trigger another panic attack," Dean told her quietly. "Is there any way you could do this to make it easier on him?"

Laura smiled. "We can do the same we do for kids, and patients getting their wisdom teeth out, give him some nitrous oxide; it should work to keep him calm during the procedure."

Dean couldn't help an amused smile. "Laughing gas? I remember that stuff. You sure it will work?"

"Definitely, I promise we'll take good care of him. Just make sure he doesn't stress out about it too much."

"I'll try, thanks," Dean said then collected Cas and headed back to the bunker. On the drive back, Cas sighed and turned to him.

"I'm sorry for acting the way I did," he apologized.

Dean shook his head. "No worries, we all have the things that scare the crap out of us. I mean, have you seen Sam around clowns? And you've got a better reason than most." Dean gripped the wheel tighter as anger washed over him, wishing he had been the one to ice Naomi. He knew he should have done it when he had the chance. He cleared his throat. "I…never knew her methods were so…invasive. I just figured it was some sort of shock therapy, telepathic thing."

"No," Cas said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "She had to physically get into my hardwiring, so to speak."

Dean cursed with sudden realization. "That's why your eyes bled? Because when you…disobeyed…it messed with her work?"

"It doesn't matter now, Dean," Cas said quickly, seeing his friend was only getting angrier. "Like you said, she's dead now. But I want to know, what is a root canal?"

Dean hesitated a moment but knew he was going to have to tell him sometime. "Well, it's when they go in to take the decay out of the tooth, when it's so bad it's gone to the root."

"I know what it is, but how do they get it out?" Cas asked.

Dean took a deep breath. "Well, they're gonna have to drill it out, Cas."

The ex-angel shot a glance at the hunter. "They're going to drill my tooth? I don't know if I can do that, Dean, not after what happened today. What if I have another attack? Or worse, flashbacks. I could end up hurting someone unintentionally."

"Look, you have to get it done regardless. Otherwise it's just going to hurt worse, and could become dangerous if it gets infected. Besides, they're going to give you some happy gas and you'll be too high to feel anything, promise."

Cas shifted uncomfortably on the seat. "I won't know what's happening? That's almost worse, what if they do something and I don't know until it's too late." His breathing was starting to quicken again and Dean was glad they were pulling into the bunker garage now. He parked the car and reached over to grip Cas' shoulder.

"Hey, look at me," he said. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. People get these things every day, it's completely normal, and the dentists just want to help, they're not trying to torture you or anything."

Cas tried to look convinced, but wasn't doing a very good job of it. Dean sighed and got out of the car, heading inside. Sam met them with a smile.

"Hey, how'd it go?" he asked.

Cas shuffled behind Dean before the elder Winchester pulled his brother into the kitchen. "Hey, Cas, why don't you relax and I'll make you some tomato soup for lunch?" he suggested.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked once they got out of earshot.

"Cas has to get a root canal tomorrow," Dean told him then explained what had happened. Sam looked just as angry as he had felt upon hearing about Naomi.

"So you think he's going to be okay?" Sam asked as he pulled some bowls from the cupboard.

"They're gonna give him laughing gas," Dean said. "The dude's a happy drunk anyway, I can't even imagine what he's going to be like on that stuff."

Sam snorted as Dean dished up the soup.

"In any case, just help me reassure him, you know I'm not good at that crap, Sammy."

Sam gave him a small smile. "You were always good with me. When you decided to stop being a dick about it, anyway."

"Shut up," Dean shot back, leaving to take the soup to Cas.

They spent the rest of the day watching movies, and trying to keep Cas' mind off the next day, but he found he couldn't sleep that night between his unease and the pain in his tooth, and instead took his blanket and pillow out to the couch where he curled up, joined almost instantly by Trouble. He petted the kitten who purred soothingly against his chest.

"I wish being human didn't come with so many complications," he muttered before he tried to sleep again.

He dozed a bit, but was up before dawn and making coffee when Sam stumbled into the kitchen, yawning.

"Good morning, Sam," Cas said, sitting quietly at the kitchen table.

"Hey, Cas, you get any sleep?" the younger Winchester asked, eyeing Cas' dark eyes and slumped shoulders.

"Not really."

Sam sat down across the table from him with his own cup of coffee. "You know there's nothing to be worried about, and you're probably not going to remember anything about it."

"I know I don't have to worry, but I'm afraid of having another panic attack. I couldn't control it last time."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, that's another one of those human things that are less than fun. And I know, I've been there, so has Dean. What helps me is to take deep breaths when you start feeling panicked and tell yourself there's nothing to worry about."

"I just don't understand how I can go into battle, vastly outnumbered, but I can't do this simple thing."

Sam smiled. "That's how it always is. It's not because you're a coward, Cas, it's okay to be scared, and you have a good reason for it. You just can't let it beat you."

Cas smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Sam. I will try my best."

Dean got up before long and Cas pretty much just sat waiting until they had to leave.

"Appointment's at nine-thirty," Dean told him. "We should probably leave now."

"All right," Cas said heavily, and reluctantly got up looking like a condemned man. Sam patted his back reassuringly.

"You'll be fine," he said with a smile.

Cas gave him a tight-lipped smile back and followed Dean out to the Impala. They were silent on the drive there but when Dean pulled into the parking lot, Cas started to shake.

"Hey," Dean said, gripping his shoulder. "You're gonna be okay."

"I know."

"Don't chicken out on me now," Dean said.

"I'll try not to."

"And hey, Cas, if you're good, I'll get you ice cream." Dean winked.

Cas smiled. "Okay."

They went inside and checked in at the reception desk before sitting down. It seemed like forever before Laura came out and smiled at Cas.

"Hello Mr. Novak, are you ready?"

"Not really," Cas said truthfully.

"It will be okay, over before you know it," she assured him.

Cas hesitated then asked quietly, "Can Dean come?"

Dean shared a glance with Laura and smiled at the ex-angel. "I think they're gonna make me sit this one out, buddy, but I'll be right out here."

Laura put a hand on his back and led him away. "You'll do great," she assured Cas. "Let's go meet the dentist who's going to be doing your root canal today."

Dean forced himself to sit back down, feeling like an anxious parent, flashes of having to take Sam to get his wisdom teeth out by himself because John hadn't been there and the poor kid had been in a ton of pain. Sam had been scared to death and Dean had been furious they wouldn't let him go in with his brother, but realized later that Sam hadn't been bothered at all once the laughing gas had been administered. He had taken a loopy little brother back to the motel and had to endure his nonsensical jabbering for the rest of the day.

It still seemed like an eternity before Laura came back out to get Dean.

"He's done. You can go back and get him now while I print off some care instructions for you."

Dean headed back to the room and was surprised when Cas nearly fell out the door in order to get to him, a loopy grin on his face and the left side of his jaw bulging from the gauze stuffed in it.

"Dean!" he slurred and Dean nearly didn't catch him as he stumbled and threw his arms around the hunter in an attempt to hug him.

"Woah, buddy," Dean said, supporting most of his weight. Great, Cas was going to be a touchy-feely one. Okay, time to get out of there as quickly as possible.

"I can smell sounds," he mumbled against Dean's shoulder as the hunter maneuvered him back out to the waiting room. "It smells like white in here."

"That's great, Cas," he grunted, practically dragging him along as he went to join Laura at the reception desk, the woman looking like she was trying not to laugh, her eyes sparkling.

"Here's the instructions," she gave Dean a sheaf of papers. "It's probably best not to leave him alone for the rest of the day."

"You're pretty," Cas slurred at her, giving her a grin. "I feel like I have wings again, Dean."

"Okay," Dean said quickly, taking the info. "How long does this last?"

"Probably a couple more hours," Laura said with a laugh. "Just let him sleep it off if he can."

"Great," Dean smiled, as he turned to look at Cas who was currently watching drool drip from his mouth onto the floor.

"My mouth is raining, Dean," he garbled.

"Yeah, I can see that," Dean said, wrapping his arm over his shoulders. "Come on, let's get you home and you can have that ice cream."

It took several tries to get Cas into the Impala because he insisted on giving Baby a hug and saying how much he loved her because she always protected the Winchesters and then once he was in he wanted to touch all the buttons until Dean told him to stop, then he just scooted along the seat and just got closer and closer to Dean until the hunter finally turned toward him at a red light, nearly smacking their foreheads together.

"Dude, what?" he demanded.

"You have so many spots on your face, Dean, I'm trying to count them. Now I have to start over. One…two…" He tried to touch Dean's cheek and nearly poked him in the eye.

"Okay, at least wait until I'm not driving," Dean said, slapping his hand away as he pulled into a fast food drive through. "I'm getting your ice cream now."

He ordered Cas a vanilla shake but decided to keep it away from him until they got back to the bunker, not wanting it all over Baby. After they pulled away Cas decided to rest his head against Dean's shoulder and proceeded to drool down his arm. "I'm tired, but everything is too floaty to sleep," he commented. "It feels like we're flying."

"You'll feel better once you get home in bed," Dean told him.

Cas tried to give him another hug. "You always take good care of me, Dean. Like Sam. You're like my big brother except I'm older than you and you're not very smart sometimes."

"Gee, Cas, tell me what you really think," Dean said, but wasn't angry. In fact, he was happy and a bit surprised that Cas felt that way, even if it was just drug induced rambling.

They got back to the bunker and Dean grabbed Cas and pulled him from the car, leading him on an unsteady walk toward the door. Sam met them there and was surprised when Cas lurched forward and threw his arms around the younger man.

"Sam, you are so tall!" Cas said, craning his neck up and wavering back and forth.

"Yeah, I'm the same height I always am," Sam said and cast an amused look at Dean who rolled his eyes and held up the milkshake.

"Cas, I have your ice cream, come lay on the couch."

Sam helped the ex-angel find his way to the couch and settled him, taking his shoes off for him which for some reason made Cas giggle uncontrollably. Trouble came to greet him and Cas instantly grabbed the kitten in a two-armed hug like a child with a stuffed animal.

"Trouble!" Cas said, as the cat howled and squirmed free, choosing to hide under the couch. Cas nearly fell off, looking underneath it for him, but Dean pushed him back down and handed him the ice cream.

"Here's your shake, now can you take the gauze out of your mouth? You probably don't want to drink that with it in there."

Cas frowned and handed the shake back. "Where is the gauze? There's gauze in my mouth? How did it get there?"

Dean turned to Sam. "Your turn."

"Dude, seriously?" Sam protested.

"I've been stuck with him drooling down my arm all the way home."

"He's your angel."

"Yeah, well now he's human which makes him equal, you do it."

Sam folded his arms. "No way; rock, paper scissors."

"Really?" Dean demanded while Cas was still rambling about the gauze, wiggling a finger in his ear for some reason. "Fine." They assumed the position and counted off. Dean smirked as he got paper to Sam's rock.

"Oh come on! You always do scissors!" Sam cried.

Dean chuckled, patting his brother on the shoulder. "Exactly. Have fun."

Sam sighed then crouched over Cas. "Hey, Cas, can you open your mouth for me?"

Sam pulled a face as he extracted the gauze and shot Dean a look. "You owe me."

"Whatever," Dean said and put the milkshake into Cas' hands. "Here's your ice cream, Cas."

Before he took the cup, Cas grabbed Dean's face and looked at him seriously. "Dean, your eyes smell like the forest," he said solemnly.

"Awesome, drink your shake."

Cas held it with a confused expression before he beckoned Dean down to whisper in his ear. "I don't remember how."

Dean groaned. It was going to be a long day.


	15. Cas Saves the Day (And the Winchesters' Sanity)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set during Season 5

It all started when Dean got Sam a present for his birthday.

"Dude, seriously? How many days have you been at it now?" Dean asked, sitting down on the other side of the motel table, opening a beer and staring across at his little brother who's face was currently screwed up with concentration while he fiddled with the thing in his hands. His computer was open and his research was all over the table, but he wasn't currently paying any attention to that.

"I know I can get it," Sam said distractedly as he gave the thing a twist, his tongue nearly sticking out the side of his mouth as he worked. Dean smirked as he watched him and took a long drink of his beer as Sam suddenly groaned and threw his head back.

"I was so close! Now I have to start back over again!"

"Well, take your time, it's not like we don't have an apocalypse to stop or anything," Dean said, though not meanly. He was actually congratulating himself on the gift he had chosen. It was giving Sammy something to think about, and it was a huge source of entertainment for him as well.

Sam huffed and set the offending object aside as he went back to work, but he was continuously glancing at it, and whenever he was talking to Dean his hands would come back and fiddle with it.

Several days later and Sam still hadn't been able to figure it out, even though he had been at it for nearly a week. He walked around with nearly a constant furrow between his brows and Dean finally snagged the object from his hands, to his little brother's grunt of protest.

"All right, you've had enough of this for a while. Let me see if I can do it, it can't be that hard." Dean fiddled for several minutes, first confident, then slowly growing more and more serious until he was cursing under his breath at the thing, which looked like it was coming together, then suddenly, with one ill-fated turn, was back to a mess again.

"This is stupid," he grunted as Sam smirked.

"Told you!" Sam said and reached for it. "Now you've messed it up again, I was sure I was so close!"

"Yeah right," Dean said, keeping it away from Sam. He wasn't giving up yet—oh no, that was not how Dean Winchester did things. "Maybe you're thinking too hard with that geek boy brain of yours. Give me a couple days to undo what you did and I'll have it figured out."

"Yeah?" Sam snorted, folding his arms over his chest. "Wanna bet?"

"Well at least this isn't the key to stopping the apocalypse, otherwise we would be totally screwed."

But several days later, Dean wasn't doing any better than his little brother—to his utter frustration. And because he had lost the bet, he had to give it back and then go to a lame salad bar for dinner.

Later in the motel room, Cas came to join them for a new case. He came in on them arguing over a strange multi-colored cube that they kept trying to grab from each other. He frowned as he approached to watch.

"Dude, don't turn it that way, it goes the other way!" Sam cried.

"No it doesn't! Look, if you put it this way none of the colors match up again!" Dean retorted.

"Yeah, that's how you do it! Trust me, I've tried. It always seems to go farther if you don't try to match everything up."

"Um," Castiel cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

Dean looked up as Sam snagged the cube back. "Nothing, just arguing over Sam's birthday present."

"What is it?"

"A Rubix Cube," Dean told the angel. "It's like a puzzle, you have to get it to where each side is only one color."

"Oh, I see," Cas said, but frowned, not really seeing the attraction. "Well, we have a job to do."

"Yep, come on, Sammy," Dean said, standing up and grabbing his jacket. Sam grabbed his too, but slid his Rubix Cube into the pocket to work with on the way.

Castiel stayed with them for the next few days while they worked the case and he became increasingly annoyed by their continuous arguing over the Rubix Cube. Every free minute they got, one of them was fiddling with it, trying to crack the puzzle. It almost got to the point where it kept them from concentrating on the case or research, in fact, Sam, who was usually so thorough, missed an important detail that could have gotten them killed if Cas hadn't been quicker than the thing they were hunting, but that didn't stop them.

Finally, he had had enough.

They were all sitting in the hotel room, slightly beaten up after the hunt, pizza cooling on the table, and Sam and Dean sitting on opposite sides of the table, arguing over the cube in Sam's hands.

"No, Sammy, the other way!" he said, grabbing for it.

"Dean, don't, I think I almost have it this time!" Sam cried, holding it out of his reach with his longer arms.

"No trust me, you're going to lose the entire green side if you do that—there, see! What did I tell you?"

"Like you could do better! You messed up the entire thing last time you touched it. I had to start all over!"

"Like you're one to talk! I was almost done with it last night when you took it from me."

"You fell asleep, and it was my turn."

"No, no! Sam! You messed it all up again! Come on, man!"

Castiel strode across the room and quickly snagged the cube from Sam's hand. "Give it to me!" He made several swift turns of the cube, then flipped the top half and slammed it back onto the table. "There, happy? Now can you please stop squabbling like children and get back to work on helping me stop the apocalypse?"

Sam and Dean stared between the angel and the cube on the table, looking perfect and brand new with all the sides aligned.

"Cas, how—?" Sam started.

Castiel rolled his eyes. "It's a simple combination of moves. It wasn't hard to figure out after watching you play with it all week. Now I'm going to go scouting. I'll be back when I find something." And he walked out the door.

Sam and Dean stared at each other for a long moment then Sam picked up the cube and looked like he was going to touch it before Dean grabbed his wrist.

"Don't you dare, Sammy," he growled.

Sam conceded and nodded. "Yeah, I think I've had enough of this for a while." And then stowed it in the very bottom of his bag.

 


	16. Cas Gets a Flu Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set during Season 9

"Dean, I'm not entirely comfortable with this."

"Cas, seriously, it's fine, people get flu shots all the time," Dean tried to assure the ex-angel, though he was becoming more and more exasperated.

"But there are possible complications: I could get sick worse than if I caught the flu, or I might have an allergic reaction to it. We don't know if I'm allergic to it or not, Dean."

"And this is why you're only allowed to use the internet for Netflix," Dean muttered and he sighed. "Look man, they only say that stuff because of one or two freak occurrences. Everyone gets flu shots, little kids get flu shots; it's better than having the flu, trust me!"

"And you're newly human so that probably makes you more susceptible," Sam added. "Since we don't know whether your body has been reset to factory settings or not, it's better to be safe than sorry."

Cas shifted slightly on his feet. "Maybe I don't like the idea of needles. It is rather unnerving."

"What, you want me to hold your hand?" Dean asked sarcastically. "Come on, let's just get this over with before we all contract the flu. That lady we interviewed hacked all over you on that last case."

Cas reluctantly headed out to the garage and watched as Sam smirked slightly, raising his eyebrows at Dean. "Dude, you haven't gotten a flu shot in years. I mean, how long has it been really?"

Dean looked away instantly. "Shut up, it hasn't been that long."

"Yeah it has, the last time I remember you getting one was before I left for collage."

"You are so wrong."

"Am I wrong about your fear of needles?" Sam asked, unable to help his maddening younger brother smirk.

"I am not scared!" Dean hissed, looking over his shoulder. "And stop saying stuff like that, you'll freak Cas out."

"Okay, sure, but just so you know, I'll hold your hand if you want me to."

"Oh bite me," Dean snarled as Sam followed Cas to the car, laughing.

They drove to the nearest clinic and the Winchesters almost had to drag Cas out of the car because the ex-angel seemed uninclined to leave. When they walked in and saw the waiting room packed with people likely doing the same thing, Cas stopped.

"It looks rather crowded, perhaps we should come back another day."

"No way, Cas," Dean said and firmly took ahold of his friend's shoulder, shoving him up toward the front desk. "If we don't do this now, we never will."

"It's really nothing to worry about, Cas," Sam told him kindly as they went to sit down after checking in with the receptionist. "It will be over in a second and you probably won't even feel it."

"Probably?" Cas asked.

Sam quickly backtracked. "I mean, you'll probably feel a pinch or something, but it shouldn't hurt at all. Not even nearly as much as getting thrown into a wall by a demon."

"But fighting doesn't make me nervous, why does this?"

Sam shrugged. "It's just a normal human reaction. No one likes going to the doctor.

Just then a scream was heard from the room where they were giving out the shots followed by continued crying until a little girl was escorted out by her mom sobbing and cradling her arm.

"It hurt, Mommy! It hurt!" she cried.

Cas looked like he was going to slide under the chair. "Sam, that little girl said it hurts."

"Dude, what's the big deal?" Dean demanded. "It's not like you haven't been stabbed and shot and tortured before." He ignored Sam's glare at his lack of tact.

Cas glared at him. "I'm human now, Dean. Everything hurts worse and I can't heal myself. I got a paper cut yesterday and it still hurts, especially when I get salt in it."

"I'm just saying, you're a warrior, start acting like one."

Cas continued to glare at him but they didn't get much more chance for discussion because they were called back. Cas didn't want to move, but he didn't want the Winchesters to think he was weak either. He already felt like he was too much of a burden on them now that he was human, he could at least show some backbone and not act like a three-year-old.

To his surprise they were greeted by a pretty young redhead who smiled at them. She definitely didn't look like she was about to torture them. But then, the reaper Cas had met when he first turned human hadn't looked threatening either and she had tortured and stabbed him. He swallowed hard, lingering behind the Winchesters.

"You boys ready to get your flu shots?" she asked.

"I am now," Dean replied with a grin.

She ignored him and turned to Cas instead, making him want to shift uncomfortably and move behind Sam's significant height by he refrained. "Whose going first?"

"I'll go first," Sam said, taking his jacket off and sitting down.

"Don't cry, Sammy, or you'll scare Cas," Dean told him.

"Bite me," Sam told him.

The woman didn't hide her smile. "It's always entertaining when siblings come in together."

Cas watched nervously as the nurse prepared the needle and then injected it into Sam's arm. It didn't look painful, Sam didn't even wince, though maybe he was just trying to keep from scaring him. She finished by putting a bandage on and then turned to Cas.

"You're next," she told him with a smile.

Cas licked his lips and wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans. He cast a quick glance at Dean hoping he might volunteer to go first, but his friend just pushed him forward. "Go on."

Cas forced himself forward and sat down.

"I need to see your arm, hun," the nurse told him kindly.

"Oh, sorry," Cas said and tugged his jacket off, feeling suddenly exposed.

"Don't be nervous, it will be over before you know it," she said and swabbed a spot near his shoulder with alcohol and got the syringe ready. Cas decided it would be better not to watch it happen, so he focused on the floor and before he knew it she had turned away from him and was opening a band-aid.

"There we go, all done," she said, putting the band-aid on his arm.

Cas frowned. "You're done already?"

"Yup," she smiled.

Cas stood up, relief flooding him. It was over and it hadn't been nearly as bad as he had anticipated. Sam smiled at him with a shrug as if to say no big deal after all.

Just as Dean was preparing for his turn, someone came and called their nurse away with a phone call.

"Sorry, I'll send in someone else to finish up," she said and left the room.

"Seriously?" Dean grunted, pacing as they waited for another nurse to come.

"Dean, calm down," Sam said, seeing the obvious signs of anxiety in his brother.

"I am calm," Dean ground out.

"It's not nearly as bad as expected, Dean," Cas assured him.

"I'm not worried!" he said, his voice rising a few octaves.

Sam rolled his eyes, but their new nurse came in, an older woman who had the air of a classic school lunch lady and a scowl of someone who had been working a stressful job too long. Dean gulped.

"Who's left?" she asked curtly.

"Him," Sam said, pointing when Dean didn't offer the information.

"Sit down, green eyes," the woman said mockingly. "Jacket off."

"Um…" Dean began but one impatient look from the woman and he scurried to obey, pulling one arm out of his jacket and quickly sitting down. He turned to glare at Sam and Cas who were smirking. She yanked his t-shirt sleeve up over his shoulder and swabbed a spot roughly with the alcohol wipe, a hand gripped tightly around his shoulder.

"A little bedside manner wouldn't go amiss," Dean mumbled, and winced as she dug her fingers in, as good as a command to stay still.

"Don't be cute, Romeo," she grunted and flicked the needle then brought it toward Dean's arm as if it were a harpoon rather than a syringe. He couldn't help the yelp that escaped as it jabbed into his arm and left just as swiftly. A bandaid was applied and the nurse slapped her hand over it, making Dean hunch over and nearly whimper.

"You're done, now go."

Dean stood up indignantly, cradling his arm and gingerly tugged his jacket back in place. He ignored Sam's snickers behind him until they got out to the Impala.

"Wow, you should have asked for her number, Dean. I think she was really into you."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said, still nursing his arm. "This is why I hate needles! I always get the mean old nurses who insist on jabbing to the bone!"

"Do you want ice cream, Dean?" Cas asked him with a small smile, him and Sam sharing a look as Dean continued to look indignant.

"Yes, I would like ice cream!" he cried.

"Okay, then let's go get some. I'll drive," Sam told him as they all slipped into the Impala.

They drove for a few minutes, Dean still complaining under his breath when Cas called to him from the backseat.

"Dean, the redheaded nurse put this in my pocket," he said, and showed Dean a slip of paper with a phone number on it.

Dean groaned as Sam laughed out loud. "You have got to be kidding me."

 


	17. Cas (and everyone else) Gets Lost-In IKEA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set during Season 9

"Sam, you had better give me one good reason why we're doing this again, or I will put you in the trunk and drive back home."

Sam made a bitchface at his older brother as they trudged through the parking lot of the IKEA that had just opened a few towns over from Lebanon. "I told you five times, Dean, there are just some pieces of furniture that we need that the bunker doesn't have. Especially things for Cas' room. Now that he's human he's going to need a dresser for his clothes and various other things. We could also use a few more cabinets in the bathrooms."

"Well, you go right ahead, Martha Stewart, I'm gonna stay in the food court," Dean grunted. "I cannot believe I actually let you two talk me into coming here. This is not a place where real men shop, Sammy."

"Why not?" Cas inquired with his typical head tilt. "I thought men were supposed to enjoy putting things together—I'm rather looking forward to it myself. It will be like those colored blocks you and Sam bought each other for Christmas."

"Legos are fun, flat-pack furniture is for designer douchebags with monochromatic city flats," Dean snorted.

"Okay, well, there's plenty of Swedish meatballs and cinnamon rolls to occupy you wile Cas and I shop," Sam said.

"Fine," Dean sighed and looked around, bewildered at the huge building as they entered the doors. "Where the hell do we go first?"

Sam motioned over to a map and Dean groaned as soon as he saw it.

"Dude this place is like freaking Disney Land, how is anyone supposed to find their way around?"

"Well, if we go up to the second floor, that looks like where most of the furniture is. And the food court is just to the right, so we'll drop you off there." Sam assured his brother.

"Great, let's go," Dean said, already heading for the escalator.

Sam gave Cas a look halfway between resigned and exasperated before they followed the elder Winchester on his way.

Once they reached the food court, Sam waved goodbye to his brother. "There you go, see you later. I'll text you when we're done."

"Whatever, Martha," Dean said, already heading toward the cafeteria line.

Sam turned to Cas. "Okay, now we can get something done."

Cas smiled as he followed Sam toward the part of the store with all the displays. He had to admit that it was probably better that Dean wasn't joining them. He'd either grumble and make sarcastic comments the whole time or get distracted and perhaps break something. Or get separated and lost for hours. Cas had already determined that this place was huge with many places one could wander off and continue wandering for hours. It was a little daunting, actually. He was glad they were only here to shop and not on some hunt. It would be impossible to find a monster or ghost in this place.

"Okay, let's see where we should start," Sam said as they came to another map. "I think it kind of all goes in one direction, but we can figure out which departments we can just pass through."

"Well, I need a dresser and some bedclothes, and perhaps some shelves," Cas said.

"We'll see if there's anything else you like too, to make your room more comfortable," Sam said with a smile. "I'm looking for a new desk chair and some bathroom cabinets. Hopefully, it won't be too hard to find."

Those seemed like the fated words, because as soon as Sam spoke them, things started to go slowly downhill from there.

Firstly, they had definitely underestimated how vast IKEA was. As they walked to the first display area, they both stopped and just looked at each other, wondering which way they should go.

"Well," Sam said. "I guess we just head in the general direction and we'll get there eventually. If we find we pass anything we need, we can always go back."

"Sounds good enough," Cas agreed and they set out. "This place seems rather confusing."

Thankfully, what they found first were the chairs, and Sam instantly looked around to see which one was to his liking and Cas followed, watching as Sam sat down in several different chairs to try them out. Cas looked at the other options with a frown. Some of the chairs were very strange and didn't look like comfortable sitting instruments at all, and they had strange names he couldn't pronounce.

"I think I like this one," Sam said, pointing to a chair that did look moderately comfortable. "Why don't you try it out, Cas, and see if you want one?"

Cas did and decided that it was a big improvement to the one that sat at his desk in the room, but what he would rather have was a reading chair, and he saw one that was sort of rounded and comfortable looking, going to sit in it and finding it to be exactly what he was looking for. "I actually like this one instead."

"Okay, good," Sam said with a smile, obviously happy that Cas was picking stuff out for himself.

"Do we…have to carry these through the store?" Cas asked with a frown, looking around and wondering exactly how this place worked.

"No, you take one of these sheets and write down the numbers, I think," Sam said and walked over to a stand, grabbing a lined sheet of paper and a tiny pencil. "And then you pick up the boxes in the warehouse downstairs when you're done."

Cas nodded and watched as Sam wrote out the numbers for the chairs.

"Well, that's done, let's see what's next."

It turned out to be accent pieces, and that was where Cas found the rug. He had often complained about the bunker being cold at all times, especially on his feet in the morning and he knew he would like to have a rug beside his bed so his feet didn't have to touch the concrete. And the one he saw first was so bright and cheerful, with several different colored circles printed on it, and when he ran his hand over it, it was very soft and he knew it would feel nice between his toes.

"Hey, Cas, you find something?" Sam asked, coming over to where his friend was standing.

"I like this," Cas said, pointing to the rug.

Sam looked like he was choking back a laugh. "Really? Okay, man, I guess whatever you want. Dean's gonna love that."

"Should we get one for him too?" Cas asked, missing Sam's sarcasm.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Sam snorted and helped Cas roll the rug for easy carrying. Maybe they should have gotten a cart or something after all. But before Sam could suggest it, Cas was pointing ahead. "Look, it looks like there are shelves next."

Sam saw he was right and they made their way over in that direction. Sam instantly realized that they were bookshelves and not the ones they would need for the bathrooms, but then he thought that Cas might like a bookshelf for his room since he enjoyed reading and had received several books from the brothers over the time he had been human after he was laid up for a week with the flu.

But as he turned around, he found Cas was gone. He couldn't see him anywhere, nor could he see his garish rug.

"Cas?" Sam called, looking around the corner where they had come from, but seeing nothing. Maybe the ex-angel had gone on ahead. He hurried to the next display floor and looked around there too, but didn't see Cas.

"Oh no," Sam groaned. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a quick text to Cas wondering where he was, but then saw that his phone had zero bars in this place. "Why?" he wondered aloud, looking around again, but he was about to admit the inevitable.

Cas had gotten lost in IKEA.

~~~~~~~

Cas had been planning on looking at the shelves with Sam, but then, he had seen a small cut through to the bedroom department. He looked over his shoulder and saw the younger Winchester only a few yards away.

"Sam, I'm going over here," he said.

He thought he heard a grunt of acknowledgement so he continued on and started to look at the bed sets. There were so many beds that you were allowed to lie on and try. Cas was particularly fond of the round one, even though he wasn't shopping for a bed. He finally found the sheet sets and picked out a dark blue and red plaid and then decided he wanted one of the down duvets that all the test beds seemed to have on them.

With his arms full, he went back toward the shelves section to see if Sam thought they should get a cart, but Sam was nowhere to be seen. He looked around the shelf displays, and then back the way they had come and continued further into the store where the kitchen stuff was starting, but Sam was no where to be found.

"Oh dear, Sam has gotten lost. This is what I was afraid of," Cas muttered to himself. Well, there was only one thing to do now.

Find Dean.

~~~~~~~

Dean was enjoying himself immensely. He had already had two plates of Swedish meatballs and now he was starting on a plate of waffles and he was eyeing the case of desserts they had as well, already deciding on what he was going to try next. All the food was delicious and he decided that coming here wasn't such a bad idea after all. Especially since he didn't have to shop.

He was just finishing his last bite of the waffles when he spotted Sam walking toward him with a flustered look on his face. Dean frowned and looked behind him for Cas but didn't see the ex-angel there.

"What's wrong? They didn't have the hairbrush organizer you wanted?" Dean asked blandly. "Where's Cas?"

"I lost him," Sam said.

Dean nearly choked, unsure of whether he was surprised because he hadn't been expecting that to come out of Sam's mouth, or if he was laughing because it was funny. "What? What do you mean you lost him? He's a grown man—or at least has a grown man's body."

Sam gave him a bitchface. "I turned around for one minute and he was gone and when I tried to find him, I couldn't. It was like he just disappeared."

Dean did laugh this time. "Dude you suck at babysitting, we should have checked Cas into the kid play area."

"Dean, come on, just help me find him, this store's too big for one person to look."

"Sammy, chill, he's not a kid, he's not going to just wander off with a stranger. Did you try calling him?"

"No bars, it's like they purposefully lock this place down so you'll stay longer," Sam said.

Dean smirked. "I told you this was a bad place, Sammy." He stood up with a sigh, looking longingly toward the dessert case. "Okay, let's go track down our wayward ex-angel and get the hell out of here. But you totally owe me whatever I want at the snack stand down by the check out."

"Fine, let's just go," Sam said and strode off, Dean nearly jogging to catch up to him.

~~~~~~~

Cas was proud of himself for making it back to the food court. He had found his sense of direction hadn't been the best since he had turned human. He didn't know if it was just because he had relied on his grace as an 'angelic GPS' as Dean would call it, or that a bad sense of direction was something left over from Jimmy. Either way, he was able to retrace his steps and make it to the food court. He looked around for Dean for about ten minutes, his arms still full of the rolled up rug and the bedclothes, gaining him several strange looks from the people sitting there, but there was no Dean.

Wondering why Dean had left the food court, Cas decided to try and call one of the brothers to tell them where he was, but when he pulled his phone out of his pocket he saw it didn't get any reception. Then he began to think, What if they'd both gotten lost?

"Oh dear," Cas muttered to himself and shuffled his stuff around in his arms to a more comfortable position and set off into the depths of the store again. They had to meet up with each other at some point, right?

~~~~~~~

"Okay, really, why would anyone come up with this place? Is there even any rhyme or reason to it?" Dean was standing next to Sam, dodging women with carts, obviously looking for very specific items and meandering couples, and the rest of the people who looked just as lost as Sam and Dean, roped into coming here to find furniture without knowing what they were getting into.

"I don't know, it looked easier to figure out online," Sam admitted.

"Okay, well, where did you lose him?" Dean asked.

Sam tried to replicate the way he and Cas had gone, but they ended up in the bedroom section instead of where he thought they were going.

"Great, even you're lost," Dean said with exasperation, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Give me a minute, I'm sure I can figure it out, let's check that map over there," Sam pointed.

Dean looked around while his brother tried to figure out the map. "Dude, everything has such weird names. Look at that: Nordli and Hemnes? They're freaking side tables!" he wandered further and then smiled. "Dude, check it out, 'Brimens Dressing Table: for easy morning routines'—this is perfect for you. Maybe it wouldn't take you so long to do your hair and makeup."

"Shut up," Sam said, coming to join him. "I think I know where we're going now. Come on, Cas might come back to the place I lost him."

"I told you this was a bad idea," Dean muttered again as he followed Sam further into the heart of the monster that was IKEA.

~~~~~~~

After he hadn't been able to find Dean or Sam at the food court, Cas had wandered back up, hoping maybe they had gone looking for him and that he would meet them where he had lost Sam. Unfortunately, he seemed to have made a wrong turn, and ended up in the children's department, which he had not seen before, and was certainly not where he was going. He got even more lost trying to make his way through it, knocking the rolled up rug he was carrying against a short doorway. There were a lot of kids there to dodge, as well as their mothers and their mother's carts and he still had his arms full of the stuff he was carrying. He thought about putting it down, but decided it was better to keep it with him than have to find it again later. He recalled the story of Theseus when he went to fight the Minotaur in the Labyrinth and decided that he would have really liked to have Ariadne's magic ball of twine to find his way back out of this place.

Eventually, he got out of the kids section and found himself among the bathroom displays. This was where Sam wanted to go, he knew, so maybe if he just stayed there, Sam would catch up to him.

But then he felt a strangeness between his shoulder blades and turned around to see someone watching him. He couldn't really tell whether they were male of female or if they meant him harm, but he really wished he had his angel blade all of a sudden. The person realized he was looking and started over toward him.

The one thing he did know was that if someone was following him, he couldn't stay there.

He hurried on until he somehow found his way back to the children's section and, looking over his shoulder to see that the person was still following him, he quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching and ducked behind a huge bin of stuffed animals. He grabbed his bright rug and hid it with him just in time for his tail to come around the corner—he could see it was a man now—look around, and then leave.

Cas breathed a sigh of relief but decided to stay hidden for a little longer. He only hoped that the person wasn't a demon or something come to get them. Sam and Dean might be in danger. He needed to find them soon.

~~~~~~~

Dean trailed behind Sam as they made their way past really ugly bed sets and finally made it into the kitchen section. Dean looked around, despite himself, slightly curious about the organizing options. The bunker kitchen always seemed to be in disarray, especially when Sam and Cas used it because they couldn't be bothered to put anything away even though he had specific places for everything. Maybe if he invested in some organizers it would make it easier.

"Hey, Sam, you think these things would help in the kitchen?" he asked, pulling open several of the display drawers to check out the setup. He frowned when he got no reply and looked over his shoulder, not seeing his little brother. "Sam?"

He hurried through the kitchen section in the direction they had been going but Sam was gone. What was wrong with this place?

"Dammit," Dean groaned. "Sam? Sammy! Hey Sam, answer me!" People were staring but he didn't care, he didn't want to be stuck in this place with two people he needed to track down, and, come to think of it, he wasn't entirely sure where he was either.

"Excuse me, sir," an employee came up to him. "Did you loose your child?"

Dean shook his head at her. "No, my little brother actually."

She smiled sympathetically. "What does he look like? I can make a call to the other employees on the floor and we can keep an eye out for him."

"Oh, he's about eight feet tall, long hair; he's wearing plaid, answers to Sammy," Dean supplied.

"Oh…" the woman looked confused. "He's not a…child?"

"No, you really need to get better maps in here," Dean told her. "Actually I'm missing two people. The other guy is a little shorter than me, dark hair, probably a confused expression on his face—talks like Spock."

"I don't think I've seen him," the woman said, the way her eyes narrowed made it look like she thought Dean was joking. "If I do I'll tell them you're looking for them."

"Thanks…for nothing," Dean added as she turned away. He ran a hand through his hair and pulled his phone out of his pocket, shaking his head as he saw no bars. "Come on. Why would they make this place without cell service?"

Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do but continue on.

~~~~~~~

Sam was about ready to shoot himself in the head. Not only had he lost Cas, but Dean seemed to have disappeared as well. He was beginning to wonder if this wasn't some time warp scheme set up by their enemies, and Dean and Cas had been thrown into another dimension. Okay, that was a little far-fetched, he had to admit, but he was about a million percent done at the moment.

"Come on, Dean, where did you go?" he groaned as he hurried through the displays, causing several people to grumble at him before he nearly got run over by a soccer mom with a cart. Eventually, he found himself in the kids' section and almost smacked his head on a low-hanging display door. Unfortunately, avoiding it send him tripping and falling into a hanging fabric storage display which he got tangled in before he made the mistake of trying to stand up. That motion caused him to trip over a play table before he simply tumbled over top of it and landed in a tangled heap of hanging nylon storage things in a giant crate of stuffed animals. He groaned, wondering how many people had seen that, when he heard his name.

"Sam? Is that you?"

Sam struggled to get up from the stuffed animals and mostly failed. He saw a mother yank her child away with a suspicious look that he didn't think he deserved. "Cas?" he asked, trying to find the voice and looked to the side where he saw the ex-angel sitting behind the stuffed animal display. "What are you doing?"

Cas looked around and stood up, helping untangle Sam and pull him from the stuffed animals. Sam's shin and one elbow were smarting but he seemed otherwise okay.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, where did you go?" Sam asked.

"I just went to look at the bedroom sets and when I got back you weren't there," Cas said in exasperation. "I've been looking for you ever since. But I can't find Dean either. He wasn't at the food court."

"Yeah, I got him to help me look for you and now I lost him too," Sam sighed, brushing the last coil of the nylon storage thing off his shoulder. "But why were you hiding behind the stuffed animals?"

"I think someone is following me," Cas said, looking around again. "I thought it could be a demon or angel and didn't want to take any chances."

"What?" Sam asked. "You were probably just imagining things. Come on, let's go look for Dean. We should probably get out of here before the employees come and see this."

Sam helped Cas pick up his stuff and they headed out.

~~~~~~~~

Dean was just about done. He was currently weaving his way through the weirdest chairs he had ever seen. "How is that even comfortable?" he wondered, and what was a 'Poäng' or an 'Ektorp'? Why did they have to call them such strange names? And why couldn't he find Sam and Cas? What if one of their enemies had found out they were here, like the angels hunting Cas; they may have grabbed him as soon as he was alone, and dragged him off to torture for information or something. Maybe they were wasting their time here and Cas was long gone and in need of help that he would never get if they got lost in this godforsaken place. Maybe Sam had gotten nabbed too. Maybe Dean was next. Or maybe he was doomed to wander this place until he died. At least they had a good food court so he wouldn't starve. In fact, thinking about it, he thought that maybe he should go back to the food court to wait, that way he wasn't just wandering aimlessly, and then if Sam or Cas didn't show in another half hour, he would make a battle plan for the worst case scenario.

"I knew this was a bad idea," he said to himself for about the twentieth time that day.

~~~~~~~

Sam and Cas somehow found their way downstairs after weaving through several other departments, thinking Dean might have gone there, but they still hadn't found him. Sam was about ready to go back up and start again when Cas grabbed his sleeve.

"Sam, that's the person following me!" he hissed, nodding off to one side.

Sam turned and saw a young man in a hoodie, coming toward them at a quick stride, waving a hand to get their attention. Sam frowned. "I wonder what he wants."

"He might be a demon, Sam," Cas cautioned, already taking a ready stance, preparing for the inevitable fight.

"Hey, man," the person said, as he came within earshot of Cas and Sam. "I've been trying to catch up with you. You dropped your wallet earlier." He held out a wallet to Cas who frowned and reached cautiously for it.

"Oh, um, thank you," he said.

"No problem," the guy said and hurried off again.

"Well, he wasn't a demon," Cas admitted, feeling slightly foolish, as he saw Sam fighting back a grin. "I guess we should think of a better plan to find Dean."

Sam was looking over toward the customer service. "Wait, I think I know what we can do. Come on."

~~~~~~~

Dean was checking his watch, just about ready to head back out and tear the store up looking for Sam and Cas if he had to, when he heard something over the speaker system.

"Dean Winchester, would you report to the customer service desk, your brother is looking for you."

Dean was initially glad, but his amusement quickly faded as he tore toward the escalator. If Sam thought he could get away with calling him like a three year old, he had another think coming. And what if there were enemies here? He could be found out and taken!

Relief washed over him, though, as he rounded the corner to the customer service desk and saw not only Sam, but Cas, standing there and holding—what the hell was that? He was so shocked by the awful psychedelic roll of rug Cas had propped against him, that he wasn't even angry at Sam anymore.

The pretty burnet who was working the desk smiled as she saw Dean coming, and turned to Sam with a wink. "Look at that, Sam, you found your brother!"

Sam gave her a withering look, and hurried toward Dean. "Thank God," he said sincerely.

"Dude, what the hell, you think I'm freakin' five?" Dean demanded.

Sam smirked. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Whatever," Dean grunted then turned to Cas. "Do I even want to know what that is?"

"It's a rug, Dean," Cas said.

"Oh…it's something all right. Can we go?"

Sam shifted awkwardly. "Well, we didn't really get anything we came for and we are here, after all..."

Dean stared blankly for a minute, then swallowed hard. "Fine. Okay. But this is what happens. We go up there, we find what we want, and get the hell out of Dodge and then we are never coming back. And we are staying together because so help me, I will tie us together if I have to, do you understand?"

Sam and Cas both nodded. "Okay, then, let's go."

An hour later, they were checked out, and heading toward the Impala with their boxes of things and Cas' horrific rug that made Dean shudder even more when he saw the color of the sheet set that was going to reside in the same room with it, and several cinnamon buns and frozen yogurts that Dean insisted on.

The drive home was quiet, everyone exhausted, and by the time they got back to the bunker and unloaded everything, they were ready to flop down and do nothing.

Unfortunately, they were to find out that the real problems hadn't even started yet, because they still had to figure out how to build the things they got.

"I take it back, I take back everything I said about hell," Dean said. "It was so not this bad."

Cas at least was very happy with his rug even though Dean said it was horrifying and that he should at least have gotten something called a 'lava lamp' to go with it. But he had to admit that he really didn't want to go back to IKEA again.

Of course, the very next week, there was talk about people dying in the store in freak accidents. And it was their job, after all, to investigate this stuff.

"Crap," they all said as they set off on their new hunt.

 


	18. Cas is (not) a Wingman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during Season 9

One day Dean announced "Cas, it's time to get you out of the house into some kind of social life."

Cas hadn't been convinced. "I have a social life here, Dean."

Dean snorted. "Yeah with Sam and me and a cat, and none of us count as normal. Besides, I mean, you need to learn how to act in normal environments better. It will help in investigations. You're still pretty awkward."

"So you're taking him bar hopping?" Sam asked blandly.

Dean cast a glare his way. "Of course I am. It's the perfect way to learn about humanity. Besides," he winked at Cas. "You need to learn how to pick up a woman."

The ex-angel gave his typical confused head tilt. "Well, I do know how to pick up a woman, and any gender of human for that matter, but without my angelic strength, I suppose it would matter on how much they weigh…"

"No, Cas," Sam said, interjecting with a chuckle. "Dean's talking about flirting. You know, talking to a woman you might be interested in dating."

"Or other things, schoolboy, but I don't have time to discuss the birds and the bees with you today," Dean teased, ignoring Sam's bitchface. "What do you say, Cas? Want me to teach you some tricks of the trade?"

Cas flushed, shifting uncomfortably. After the 'den of iniquity' debacle a few years back, he had been wary going to bars with Dean. "I don't know, it didn't go so well last time, and then there was that reaper April…"

"Don't worry, dude, I promise not to take you to a brothel this time," Dean assured him.

"What?" Sam nearly choked on his coffee. "When was that?"

"That was years ago when you were off…finding yourself, or whatever," Dean told him. "Nevermind. Point is, Cas, you gotta learn these things. They're important skills every man needs to know, and you are a human male now, after all. Besides, you don't have to do anything if you don't want to, you can just come along and watch me work, see how the master does it. Be my wingman."

Sam rolled his eyes with a groan. Cas was confused again. "But…I don't have wings anymore, Dean."

"No, it's like…never mind, I guess we need to show you Top Gun. You don't need wings, it just means you have my back, help reel the ladies in."

"Oh," Cas said, still not quite understanding.

"It's not hard, Cas, just let me take the lead and pretty much you just join in when you want to. Girls tend to trust guys more if they have friends around, and they travel in groups too, so it's better if I have someone there so I seem less desperate." He ignored Sam's snort. "Plus someone needs to keep an eye out for angry boyfriends no one ever mentions."

"Well, I suppose it won't hurt to try it," Cas said hesitantly.

"Great!" Dean said enthusiastically. "But go change, dude, a hoodie isn't going to catch anyone."

Fifteen minutes later, Cas was dressed in clean jeans and a blue button-down and they were driving into town to go to a bar Dean said was good and not too much of a dive. They parked outside and Dean turned to his friend who looked more nervous than he had ever seen him, even when they were certain they would be killed.

"Okay, just remember, be yourself, first of all, but you should probably can the ex-angel stuff, I mean, you are human now, so maybe act like it. Watch your drink, watch your pockets, and get as many phone numbers as you can. And don't leave the bar without telling me. Just stick by me for a while okay, it will be awesome!"

Cas wasn't so sure, but he followed Dean inside all the same and sat at the bar with him while the Winchester ordered two beers. He downed nearly half of it, and regretted it instantly when his head started to spin. He really had no tolerance for alcohol as a human. Dean turned to him with raised eyebrows.

"Cas, relax," he said. "They're just women. They're not out to get you."

"But the reaper was…"

Dean sighed and clapped a hand to Cas' shoulder. "Listen, buddy, I'm sorry you had a bad first experience, but you gotta get over it. April was out for your head. The worst thing any of the girls in here are going to do is steal your wallet. Trust me, I got your back man, no one is going to capture and torture you."

Cas felt a little better and nodded, taking another gulp of his drink. "And slow down," Dean cautioned under his breath. "You know how much of a lightweight you are."

Just then, three women entered the bar, giggling and chatting and headed up to the other end of the counter from Dean and Cas to order their drinks. Dean nudged Cas and nodded, a grin on his face.

"See that? That's exactly what we're looking for. They just got here, obviously on a girl's night out, and they outnumber us. Now, follow my lead."

Cas swallowed convulsively but grabbed his beer and followed Dean toward the three girls, two blonds and one brunet, all wearing short dresses and lots of makeup. But they were attractive, Cas had to admit. It was odd how he had started to notice those things more now he was human.

"Ladies," Dean greeted with a winning smile as the three turned and giggled, eyes sweeping appreciatively over the new arrivals. "Mind if my friend and I join you?"

"Of course not," the brunet said. "I'm Stephanie, and this is Kate and Laura."

"Hi," the other two girls chorused.

"It's nice to meet you Stephanie. I'm Dean and this is my buddy, Cas."

Cas forced an awkward smile and an even more awkward wave—maybe the beer was already going to his head—but one of the blonds, Laura, smiled prettily at him, an appreciative look in her eye that made his face heat up. Dean seemed to notice and strategically pushed Cas so that he was standing next to her.

"So, you ladies thirsty?" Dean asked. "Drinks are on me."

He kept up the small talk for a few more minutes while the drinks were ordered and Cas just watched him, trying to keep from seeming too awkward. He was startled when the blond he was sitting beside rested a hand on his thigh and smiled up at him.

"So, Cas, what do you do for work?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm, uh…" he faltered for an answer all too aware of her hand. "A…research assistant."

"Oh, what kind of research?" she asked, leaning over the bar to better look at him, and probably to better display her cleavage as well.

"Um, mythology and folklore mostly." Maybe he shouldn't have said that.

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? You just didn't strike me as an academic."

"Oh," Cas faltered, wondering if he had been caught in a lie. "Is that a…good thing?"

Her red lips split in a grin. "It's certainly not a bad thing."

"So, um, what do you do?" he asked, taking a glance at Dean who gave him a discreet thumbs up as he continued to entertain the other two women.

Cas became less awkward as the night went on, especially after Dean plopped another beer in front of him. After that, he began to feel a little bit lightheaded and found himself laughing at stuff he didn't even know was funny. But Laura laughed along with him, so he must not be doing too bad. Maybe this wasn't going to be as terrible as he had feared.

He didn't know how much longer it was before, Dean clapped him on his shoulder and leaned over. "Hey, you good here for a little bit? Stephanie and I are just going to step out for some air," he winked and slapped Cas' back before he stepped away where the brunet was waiting.

Laura watched them go before she turned back to Cas, her hand finding his thigh again and he flinched slightly as she slid it a little higher than before. They were the only ones at the bar now, because the other girl, Kate, had spotted some friends and had gone to talk to them. "I don't know about you, but I could use another drink," she said with a smile.

"Oh, of course," Cas said, knowing this was his cue to buy. He pulled out his wallet and motioned to the bartender, ordering two of whatever Laura had wanted. It turned out to be a margarita, which Cas found utterly disgusting and had him sputtering. Laura seemed to find that hilarious and patted him on the back until he stopped coughing.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, touching his face and then stroking some hair from his forehead.

"Yup, I'm good," Cas said with a lazy smile. That last drink had really gone to his head. He would be on the floor if he had another. He leaned toward her about to suggest they go sit at one of the tables when Laura leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Cas was startled and almost pulled away but her hand was gripping the back of his head and he just sort of stayed there, stunned while she kissed him, pulling back finally with a somewhat awkward expression.

"Sorry," she said, "I thought…"

"No, it's… okay," Cas assured her. "I was just surprised."

"So, um, you wanna get out of here?" she asked him, looking seductively up at him through her eyelashes, her hand reaching out to play with the top button of his shirt.

Cas suddenly felt nervous, and cast a glance toward the door, wondering how long Dean was going to leave him here alone. "Well, um…"

"Come on, your friend and Stephanie have obviously left for the night. They won't mind if we do the same." Cas jumped as her hand found his backside, heat rushing to his cheeks. He cleared his throat, about to make some sort of excuse when someone shouted from across the room. "Laura!"

"Dammit," the woman said under her breath, stepping away from him and bringing a hand to her head. "My ex."

Cas didn't have time to ask before his collar was grabbed by two large hands and he was yanked up to his toes, the bar pressing into his back.

"Chris, stop," Laura said angrily.

"Is this the guy you left me for?" the man, Chris demanded, shaking Cas slightly as the smaller man tried to get himself free. This Chris was about as tall as Sam and broader, with short blond hair, looking like some kind of sports player.

"Excuse me, what are you so upset about?" Cas asked, grunting as he tried to force the man's hands from his shirt collar, but he had obviously drunk too much because he was having a hard time focusing on anything.

His question only seemed to make the man angrier. "What am I upset about? You stole my girl, that's what!"

"I left you, Chris, because of this, you're so untrusting!" Laura snarled. "Now put him down!"

"I don't think so, I think I'm gonna teach the little punk a lesson." Chris said and hauled Cas forward, yanking him out of the bar as Laura continued to protest. Cas struggled in the man's iron grip as he was nearly dragged outside and to the side of the building out by the dumpsters where no one else was.

"Hey Chris, you find the guy?" another voice said.

"Yeah, I got him, come help make sure he doesn't get away before I teach him a lesson."

Cas felt his adrenaline kick in as he saw two more big men come around the corner. One laughed derisively.

"That little punk? Dude if she left you for him, she's not worth the trouble."

Chris grunted and threw Cas backwards against the wall, the breath whooshing from his body, but he kept his feet, and stared the men down.

"I don't have anything to do with Laura, I just met her tonight," he said. "But if you hurt her in any way, I'll—" He was cut off with a blow to the stomach that sent him to his knees, doubled over. Chris grabbed the front of his shirt again, ripping it as he hauled him upright and delivered another punishing blow to the side of Cas' face. The taste of copper filled his mouth and something warm ran down his lips from his nose after a second blow. The third one he managed to block on his forearm but the force threw him against the wall again. Chris snarled at him, raising a fist for another blow when Cas lashed out with one foot and kicked the inside of his knee, hearing a pop. He scrambled back as Chris staggered with a yelp.

"Chris, you okay?" one of his buddies asked, coming forward.

"Get the little asshole," Chris snarled, both hands clutching his knee with pain written on his face and Cas turned to face the other two, delivering several blows before one grabbed him from behind and held him while the other delivered heavy blows to his face and stomach. Chris finally recovered enough to stagger over as Cas was bleeding and wheezing and he yanked the ex-angel from the others' grip and threw him to the ground. Cas sprawled against the wall, and fought to get up, but Chris kicked him in the chest, then put his good foot against one of Cas' knees.

"I'm going to put your knee out too, see how you like that." He raised his foot to strike but didn't get the chance.

"Hey, asshat!"

Chris looked up and saw Dean standing there at the head of the alley with his gun leveled. The other two raised their hands instantly, stepping away from the hunter.

"Back off," Dean snarled.

"Just seeing justice is served," Chris said. "It's none of your business."

"The hell it isn't, you hit my friend again, I'll shoot you in your other leg. I see why your girlfriend left you now. You're a real dick."

"Why you…" Chris came forward, but stopped as Dean pulled back the hammer.

"Get out of here," Dean said coldly.

"Come on Chris," one of his friends said and finally the man relented and the three beat a hasty retreat.

Dean watched them go before he stowed the gun in the back of his jeans and hurried over to Cas, helping pull him to his feet.

"Hey, Cas, you good?" he asked worriedly, looking him over and wincing. "I should have put a clip into them on principle."

"I'm good," Cas said, but hunched slightly, his middle aching where the blows had landed.

"Yeah, sure you are." Dean slipped an arm under his shoulders to keep him upright. "Sorry I left, I didn't expect that to happen."

"Don't worry, I was handling it," Cas said, smiling slightly through a busted lip.

Dean laughed at that. "Okay, tough guy. Well, we'll get you back home and cleaned up. Sam's gonna rip me a new one when he sees you. Cas, hey, you good?"

Cas had came to a halt, suddenly feeling horribly dizzy and nauseous. Before he could answer he vomited on the ground, just barely missing Dean's boots as the hunter skipped away just in time.

"Woah, easy, buddy. You finished?"

"Sorry," Cas groaned as he allowed Dean to help him straighten up. "Perhaps beer and margaritas do not mix."

Dean chuckled and patted him on the back as he helped him back to the Impala. "Well, we'll call this another fail, but don't worry we'll try again sometime and I promise I won't leave you to deal with angry boyfriends next time."

Cas groaned slightly, honestly not really looking forward to it.

When they got back to the bunker, he spent the rest of the night on the couch with some pain killers, an icepack, Trouble sleeping in his lap and watching Top Gun with Sam and Dean. This, he decided, was just about all the social life he wanted.

 


	19. Cas (and the Winchesters) Get Scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during Season 9 (Trouble!Verse)

Halloween. Sam and Dean hated this holiday, especially going out into the chaos that ensued, and Cas was indifferent, so they decided to buy as much candy as they could—which Cas and Dean had done earlier much to Sam's dismay seeing the bags scattered over the table in the library—and stay the hell away from anything supernatural outside. That's right, they were taking the night off for once. They'd had a grueling month of hunting, what with all their normal problems with angels and demons and a bunch of awful side jobs they were still recovering from so they all decided they deserved a break, so they stayed in to spend the night watching Netflix instead.

Because Cas had never seen what Dean termed the "classic" horror movies, they cued up several and had what the elder Winchester called "the Marathon of Fear" then he proceeded to enjoy watching the ex-angel jump at several points in the movies and pester Sam about not admitting he was scared.

Cas did have to admit that the movies, though not half as terrifying as most of the things they hunted on a daily basis, did have a certain eerie quality to them. It was likely the atmosphere mixed with the filmography, but still, he was almost ashamed to admit that he was a little jumpy walking to his room through the dark halls of the bunker afterward. Though that might have also been the copious amounts of sugar he had consumed that was starting to give him a stomachache.

"Night, Cas," Dean called to him. "Don't let the boogey man get you."

Cas shook his head, but as he got ready for bed, he did make one quick check under it before he slid beneath the covers. Obviously, with the life he and the Winchesters led, they could never really be too careful about things that go bump in the night.

He nearly had a heart attack when the door opened, seemingly of it's own accord, but he heard the expectant mrow and breathed a sigh of relief as Trouble hopped up onto his bed. He reached out and gathered the cat in his arms before getting up and kicking the door closed behind him.

"No ghosts here, Trouble," he said and the cat purred as Cas stroked him behind the ears.

Trouble gave him a look that clearly meant he was being ridiculous and curled up beside him as Cas lay down and turned off the lamp, falling asleep almost instantly.

~~~~~~~

He woke with a gasp, heart pounding and sweat sticking his t-shirt to his skin. Cas hurriedly reached out to turn the lamp on, reaching with his other hand for the angel blade that resided under his pillow. He looked around, but there were no attackers. He took several deep breaths. He still wasn't quite used to having nightmares. It was such an odd thing for your head to make up something that would be so distressing. Images from the one he had just had flicked through his mind, being hunted by a horrible monster, unable to run or move and hearing Sam and Dean call for him, sounding like they were in pain. He shook the memories off. It was just the movies they had watched that had induced them, he knew this. But it wasn't like a scenario like that couldn't happen to them either. He began to realize that the humans who didn't know about the supernatural creatures that truly populated the world were indeed lucky.

He looked down at the bed to see if he had disturbed Trouble, but didn't see the cat anywhere. He frowned, looking around the room, and under the bed, but Trouble wasn't anywhere. That was very odd. The door was still closed and there was no other way the cat could have gotten out of the room.

"Trouble?" he called, getting out of bed and making a more thorough search, but he couldn't find the cat anywhere.

By now whether it was the feeling he'd had since watching the movies earlier or the one he had gotten from the dream, he began to feel a crawling up his spine like he was being watched or that there was another presence in the room. Stupid really. He knew the bunker was the most secure place in the world and was warded against every supernatural creature known to man. But still…

He sighed and reached for his blade again, cautiously going toward the door and opening it, glancing quickly out in the hall. It was empty. Of course it was empty! He was being very silly.

But then he heard a thump somewhere in the bunker and he froze again. He hadn't imagined that had he?

He gripped his blade tighter and ventured out, wondering if he should wake Sam and Dean first, but decided to let them sleep until he figured out if it was an actual threat or not.

He didn't have far to go. He crept into the library and turned one of the lamps on, nearly tripping over a pile of books that looked like they had fallen to the floor. Cas frowned and bent to pick them up, seeing they were the ones Sam and been using earlier that week to research a cursed object. A cursed object they currently had interred in the storage room of the bunker. It could just be a coincidence, but as Dean and Sam often liked to remind him, when was it ever a coincidence?

And then he heard a rustle and saw something move in the corner of his eye looking like a shadow. He nearly fell back over the table, before he mentally kicked himself to get it together. Why was he so scared all of a sudden? However, this definitely seemed like something now and it was better to be safe than sorry, so he hurried off to wake the Winchesters.

He woke Sam first, knowing he was the more easy going when being roused in the middle of the night than Dean.

"What is it, Cas?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. "Don't tell me, you're sick from all that candy, right?"

"No, Sam, this is much more serious than a stomachache. I think something is haunting the bunker."

"What?" Sam asked, instantly more alert, hand instinctively reaching for the gun under his pillow.

"A pile of books fell off the table and I saw something moving in the shadows."

Sam nodded. "Okay, we'll check it out, go get Dean." It was a sad life they led that Sam didn't even bother to question his reasoning that the bunker was haunted.

A few minutes later, the three had gathered; a yawning Sam, an antsy Cas and a grumpy Dean who was shuffling into the library in his t-shirt, boxers and robe, scratching his backside indelicately as he glared at Cas.

"Cas, you know nothing can get in here, right?"

"But what if we brought it in?" Cas objected. "What if we didn't neutralize that cursed object well enough?"

"He does have a point," Sam shrugged.

Dean groaned as he sat down, and put his head in his hands. "Cas, dude, look. You just watched a bunch of horror movies, you probably had a nightmare and just got freaked."

"I did have a nightmare, but…"

"Yeah, that's the answer for you," Dean said. "Can we go back to sleep now?"

"But, Dean—"

"You know, Cas, it could have just been Trouble, where is he anyway?" Sam asked.

"That's the thing, I can't find him. What if this thing got to him?" Cas began to feel worried for his pet, the idea not having crossed his mind before.

"Okay, you know what?" Dean said. "I'm going to take a look around, you two girls stay here, and then I'm going to come back and disprove this ghost-whatever theory and then we are going to go back to bed."

Sam and Cas didn't bother protesting as Dean shuffled off through the dark corridors of the bunker. However, it was only a few minutes later that he came back, more hurriedly and much more awake than he had been. Sam and Cas were on their feet immediately.

"Okay, you may be right," he said in a rushed voice.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

Dean jerked a thumb back over his shoulder. "Something ran past me in the hallway, concealed in the shadows and there was this cold air on the back of my neck. It's gotta be some kind of ghost."

"I'll get the shotguns," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"I told you," Cas told Dean.

"Yeah, alright, genius, go grab a gun and let's gank Casper, why don't ya?" Dean grunted.

In a matter of seconds, the three of them were armed with shotguns and rock salt rounds, looking a motley crew in their sleep clothes and bedhead.

"Okay, we'll check systematically through the bunker starting with the kitchen, and working our way to the storage room," Dean said. "If this is from that cursed object, the box will probably be open or something."

The other two nodded and followed Dean down the corridor. He had a flashlight, for some reason thinking it would be better to carry that than simply turn on the lights as they went. Cas just thought it made it feel more eerie, and he had yet to really shake the creepy feeling that was making the hair on the back of his neck stand up every time he heard a sound from inside the bunker.

The kitchen turned up nothing, nor did the study or the library or the dormitory ward. Sam and Cas even checked the bathrooms and found nothing. Then they began to move further into the bunker where it was darker and the flashlight was their only source of light.

That was when they heard a quiet whispery sound up ahead and they all stopped, guns held at the ready, fingers on the triggers.

"You hear that?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Cas and Sam replied. "That wasn't Trouble," the ex-angel added.

"All right, let's go see what it is then," Dean said and they trooped forward.

Another sound came then, a skittering that sent instant shivers down Cas' spine, conjuring images of some unknown creature of nightmares.

"Okay, that was weird," Sam admitted quietly. "Are we sure this is a ghost?"

"I didn't even think the cursed object we found manifested corporeally," Cas whispered. All three of them were only speaking in whispers now as if unable to speak out loud.

"Who knows? Let's just gank this thing," Dean said quietly, but Cas could tell he was unsettled as well.

They were almost to the storage room and stopped as they saw the door slightly ajar.

"You leave it like that?" Dean asked the other two.

"No," they replied.

"Okay, we go in and split up to cover the room."

"Are you sure it's wise to split up?" Cas asked, recalling what had happened in all the movies as soon as the characters had split up.

"We don't want it to escape, do we?" Dean hissed. "Now come on, scaredy-cats."

Sam and Cas shared a look but followed Dean into the room. They winced as the doors made a screech upon opening and then stepped inside, guns and flashlights raised.

The whispering sound was heard again and all three of them jumped, turning in the direction they had heard it, before the skittering sound also happened again, and they were spinning in another direction.

"Is there more than one?" Dean hissed.

"Sounds like it," Sam whispered back, scanning the shelves. "Let's check the box out first."

The three of them tiptoed toward the spot on the shelves where they had stored the curse object in one of the many warded boxes they had for such things.

"Where is it?" Sam asked with a frown as he scanned the shelves.

"I don't know, you're the one who deals with all the categorizing, Mr. Librarian" Dean huffed.

"I think it's over here…" Cas said, heading further down the shelf when something crashed into the other side of it, and sent several boxes tumbling to the floor.

All three of them yelped and jumped back, Dean dropping the flashlight in the process and sending them all into darkness.

"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded, no longer bothering with the whispering.

"I don't know," Sam replied unhelpfully. "Where's the flashlight?"

They all fell to their knees and started searching for the light, when they heard the skittering sound again. Cas felt his heart pound in fear, unable to see and helpless, and then Dean let out a manly scream.

"Something fricken' touched my hand!" he shouted.

"That was me," Sam assured him. "Hey, I got the flashlight." He flicked the switch and it came on dully for a few seconds before flickering out.

"Great," Dean muttered.

Cas sat back on his heels, clutching the gun to his chest. "Perhaps we should go get another light."

"Well we can't really look for something we can't see," Dean said blandly.

All of a sudden, something smacked Cas in the back of the head as the whispering sound came again. He yelped and then pitched forward onto his face as the same thing or something else pounced on his back and snagged the back of his shirt with sharp claws.

"Cas!" Dean yelled. "You okay? Where are you?"

"Here, I think I'm fine," Cas said, picking himself up from the floor. "It hit me."

"We gotta get out of here," Dean said, getting to his feet and grabbing the flashlight from Sam, smacking it against his hand several times, it gave off a flickering light, only enough to show them a shadow darting across the ceiling.

"There!" Sam yelled and Dean spent no time in shooting at it. The patter of rock salt falling to the ground was all they heard for several seconds, before the skittering sound started up again along with an inhuman howl.

"What is that?" Sam demanded, as Cas felt all his hair stand up. The three of them had somehow bunched together, back to back in a tight circle, eyes flashing around in the darkness. There was only enough light coming in from the cracked door to make shadows.

A squawk suddenly broke the night and the three of them yelled and tensed, Sam firing a shot this time at nothing in particular.

"Okay, this is ridiculous, we're acting like a bunch of girls at a slumber party," Dean scoffed. "Let's find the fricken' light switch."

"Dean, wait," Cas tried to reason with him, thinking it would be best if they stayed together, but Dean had already left their circle and was groping along the wall, cursing as he couldn't find it.

"Where the hell is it?" he demanded.

"I think it's over here, Dean," Sam said, and suddenly Cas was alone in the dark, and not liking it.

"Sam, Dean," he called.

"Found it," Sam said, just as there was a cacophony of the whispering and skittering sounds, followed by another of Dean's manly yells and a huge crash. Cas spun around just as the lights turned on and saw a wispy being surge around the corner of one of the shelves. Cas shot without thinking between two boxes just as a loud squawking sounding out.

Accompanied by Dean's scream of agony.

"Dean!" Sam yelled and rushed down one shelf. The other Winchester had disappeared, and Cas was suddenly frozen in horror, images from his nightmare flashing in front of his eyes. What if the thing had gotten Dean before he had shot it?

"Dean? Dean!" He joined Sam in the yelling and forced himself into a run, rounding the corner to a horrifying scene.

Dean was sprawled on the floor among several of the boxes, moaning something Cas couldn't quite make out between curses, and Sam stood over him with a shocked expression on his face, seeming unable to register what he was seeing. And there was blood, Cas could see it on the back of Dean's robe.

"Dean!" Cas cried, kneeling in front of the elder brother, trying to determine how bad the injury was. "What happened? What did it do to you?"

"M'ass," Dean groaned into the floor.

"What?" Cas asked frantically.

Dean raised his head and glowered at the ex-angel with righteous fury. "You shot my ass!"

Cas stood up and peered down at Dean's posterior, realizing there hadn't been as much blood as he had first thought, and also realizing that what he had thought was a ghost, had been Dean's robe.

"Dean, I'm…so sorry," he tried, looking to Sam, but the younger brother seemed to be in shock because he was still staring at Dean's backside and shaking.

"My poor ass," Dean moaned into the floor. "I'm disfigured, what if it's damaged permanently?"

Sam suddenly burst out laughing, and Cas realized that what he had taken to be shock had in fact been Sam trying to hold in laughter. He doubled over, and braced his hands on his knees. This didn't make Dean any happier.

"Sam if you don't stop laughing I will shave your head in your sleep," Dean snarled in no uncertain terms.

Sam tried to reduce his laughter to giggles and snorts, but it wasn't really working.

"Wait…" Cas said. "If I shot Dean, then where is the ghost?"

That sobered them all up, especially when they heard the skittering sound again, and were on alert, turning around.

However, the only thing that appeared was Trouble, proudly toting a dead bird, which he promptly deposited at Cas' feet and mrowed up at him with a satisfied expression on his face.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Dean growled. "This whole thing was just the damn cat chasing a bird through the bunker?"

"It would appear so," Cas replied. "It must have somehow gotten in here and Trouble and trying to get it out."

For some reason that only made Sam laugh harder and so it was Cas who had to help Dean off the floor, even if he was unable to scrape up his wounded pride along with his body.

~~~~~~~~

Sam was not laughing an hour later when he had to pluck all the rock salt from Dean's rear. It was not a pretty thing. Sam had wanted to challenge Cas to Rock, Paper, Scissors for the honor, but Dean didn't want Cas anywhere near his tender backside after what had happened, especially with a pair of tweezers, so Sam had to methodically dig out 163—yes they counted them—pieces of rock salt from Dean's butt, all the while having to listen to him moan into a pillow about how he was now disfigured and humiliated and that was only between his yelps of pain that would have been pitiful for a four-year-old girl and protests that Sam was digging too deep, and threats about what he would do if Sam damaged one of his "best features" more than it already was.

By the time Sam had taped on the gauze and Dean's backside was mercifully covered again, the younger Winchester was about ready to murder Cas or Trouble or both of them, even though it hadn't really been their fault.

Cas was apologetic, even though it took Dean three days before he would let the ex-angel into his room where he did nothing but sulk, too embarrassed by the whole thing to even make his way to the couch to get a change of scene.

"I really am sorry, Dean, but Sam assures me you will recover fully, likely without any scars."

"Well, good, because if I have a pock-marked ass after this, I will make your life misery."

As if his constant moaning wasn't already bad enough, but of course, Cas didn't say that. "I'm sure you'll not have to live with a…pock-marked ass, Dean."

Dean muttered into his pillow, before he turned back around and fixed Cas with a glare. "No more horror movies."

"Agreed," the ex-angel replied whole-heartedly. "It is a bit redundant with the lives we live anyway, I suppose."

Dean grunted and shoved his face in his pillow, and obvious dismissal.

Cas sighed and left the room, just as Trouble came in. Cas tried to grab him before he leapt onto the bed, directly onto Dean's wounded posterior, but it was too late.

Dean howled, and Trouble shot out the door as if a beast were on his tail. Cas decided it was best to take the same course of action. In fact, he might just lay low until Dean was recovered fully.

Then maybe he could find a decent place to hide by the time Dean could move around again.

 


	20. Cas Loses a Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set during Season 9 (Trouble!Verse)

Dean stumbled into the kitchen, only half awake. They had just gotten back from a grueling hunt that had involved three nights of staking out a cemetery to catch some ghouls and last night had been the first time he had slept more than two hours together for days. He was exhausted. Sam, still up early, had thankfully made some coffee, though and he poured what was left into his cup, inhaling the scent. He shuffled over to the table and sat down blinking blearily at a note in Sam's handwriting that said he had gone out to buy food. They had been gone for the better part of a week so it would stand to reason their cupboard was bare. Dean groaned, but didn't complain too much. He was more interested in the coffee just then.

He was just lifting the cup to his lips, when a crash followed by an inhuman yowl sounded through the bunker. Dean jolted and spilled coffee down his front.

"Dammit!" he yelled.

"Dean!" Cas came running into the kitchen a few minutes later, wearing nothing but a towel, hair still soapy, and carrying a screeching, writhing ball of fur. "Trouble is injured! I was just showering and then I heard this crash and when I went to see what it was, I saw he had tried to climb onto my desk but there was a stack of books there that fell off and caused the chair to overturn and he was caught under it!"

Dean blinked at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying as the cat continued to yowl pitifully and Cas tried to soothe him.

"The hell?" Dean finally said.

"Dean! We need to help him! Bring him to a veterinarian!"

"He's probably just scared."

"His leg is broken!" Cas insisted.

Dean wasn't sure how he could tell when the cat was doing its best to contort itself out of Cas' grip but he ran a weary hand over his face. "Okay, just give him to me and go get dressed."

Cas gratefully handed the ball of fur over to Dean who must have touched the squirming cat wrong because Trouble only howled more.

"Hush, cat," Dean grunted, his head splitting with a caffeine-deprived headache. Trouble simply dug his claws into his chest and Dean cursed through clenched teeth.

Cas came back in record time, fully dressed and using the towel to dry his hair, which was sticking up in every direction. He brought a soft blanket from his bed and had Dean lower Trouble into it after he had dislodged the cat's claws from his flesh. "You should get dressed, Dean," he insisted. "We need to go!"

"Dude, can't you do it yourself? I'm not even awake!" Dean protested.

Cas looked at him with large eyes. "Dean, I can't drive and comfort Trouble at the same time."

"Dude, I'm not going to take a cat to the vet with you."

"Why not?"

"Because it's just…weird, man. Normal guys don't take pets to the vet together. It's just—never mind. Can't you wait for Sam to get back?"

Cas glared at him. "Trouble is suffering. I'm not going to wait any longer."

Dean looked at the hurt expression on Cas' face and finally caved, too exhausted to argue anymore. "Geez, what are you, five?" He went to his room and grudgingly threw on some clothes before heading back out and grabbing his keys. "Come on."

Dean had to listen to Trouble's distress all the way into town, accompanied by Cas' continued soothing that was doing nothing for the cat. They were lucky the vet office was even open that early in the morning, and Cas was out of the car and inside before Dean even turned it off. He sighed and closed his eyes, willing strength into his body. "I cannot believe this is my life right now," he muttered as he got out and followed Cas into the office.

He found Cas pleading with the receptionist, several people who were waiting with their own animals watching him with interest and some amusement. Great, now Dean was going to have to establish he was with the guy.

"Please, he's hurt very bad, can't you see him now?"

"Sir, the vet is with another patient right now, but if you fill out this paperwork, we will see your cat as soon as possible."

Dean sighed and went up to the counter, smiling at the woman sitting behind it as he pushed Cas to one side. He leaned over, looking at her nametag. "Hi there—Heather? I'm sorry, but my brother is just worried. He's a little, ya know, he has some mental issues. I mean, you're lucky he's wearing more than a towel right now." He chuckled.

The receptionist gave him a scathing look that made Dean take a step back, smile instantly wiped off his face. She completely ignored him after that and turned back to Cas with a gentler expression. "Just sit down for a few minutes. I'll make sure to tell the vet there's an emergency."

"Thank you," Cas said gratefully and went over to the seats, cradling Trouble like a baby and stroking his head. "It will be okay, Trouble, the vet will fix you up soon."

"Give me strength," Dean muttered before the receptionist shoved a clipboard and form at him, her expression still tight. Dean took it. "Hey you got any coffee here?"

"No," she said, turning back to the computer.

"Right," Dean growled and went back over to sit next to Cas and looked at the form. "I cannot believe you have to fill stuff out for a freaking cat," he said. "I mean, medical history? Really? You do it, Cas, you're his mom."

"Dean, I'm comforting him," Cas insisted.

Dean was about ready to shoot himself in the head, but he took up the form and filled it out anyway. By the time he was done, the vet, a middle-aged blond woman, came out and smiled at Cas.

"Hello, I'm Stephanie, I heard we have a broken leg here."

"Yes, he had an accident with a stack of books and a chair," Cas told her. "His name is Trouble."

"Sounds like a fitting name," she laughed, and motioned for Cas to follow her. "Why don't you bring him back and we can see what happened."

Cas nodded and followed her with Trouble still mewling in his arms. Dean dropped his head back against the wall, and eyed the gas station across the street, planning on going to grab a coffee when his phone rang.

"Sam?" he answered.

"Yeah, where are you? All I found was spilled coffee and a towel on the kitchen floor. Are you and Cas okay?"

"We're fine," Dean grumbled. "Trouble fell off Cas' desk and hurt himself so we're at the vet."

"What? Is he alright?"

"Oh god, not you too," Dean groaned. "Yes, the cat will be fine. Cas is just a little freaked out. Hopefully we'll be home soon."

He ended the call and went to grab a coffee. After that he waited for about twenty more minutes before Cas reappeared, catless.

"Well?" Dean asked.

"Dean, the vet would like to talk to us."

Dean ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, because my day wasn't already tedious enough." He sighed and got up to follow Cas back to the examination room and saw Trouble lying on the table, calm at least, with a cast on his back right leg. Dean actually couldn't help but feel sorry for the furry critter. He did look pitiful. Stephanie was there, stroking his back.

"We put a cast on his leg, and that should stay on for a couple weeks and heal perfectly well," she said to Dean. "But we want him to stay overnight for observation."

"Okay, so, does that mean we can leave?" Dean asked.

"You are free to go, yes," the vet said with a frown. "I did want to talk to you about getting Trouble neutered as well. It's just responsible in general."

"Oh, uh…" Dean cringed despite himself and could have sworn he saw Trouble's eyes widen. "Well, he's not exactly around, you know, girl cats, so maybe we can skip that?"

"I want you to think about it anyway," Stephanie told him. "We could easily do it now while he's already staying here."

"I don't want him to have to suffer any more right now," Cas protested.

"Yeah, I think we'll hold off. He's a very secluded housecat," Dean said quickly, not wanting to think about any kind of neutering, thank you very much.

"Well, read up on it anyway," Stephanie said and turned to Cas. "Why don't you come and help him get settled in?"

Cas followed her as Dean headed back out to the waiting room. Stephanie and Cas came back a moment later, and the vet handed him several brochures on spaying and neutering animals.

"Let me know if you change your mind," she said.

"Great, safe sex for cats," Dean muttered and turned to Cas. "You ready or what?"

Cas sighed and Stephanie smiled reassuringly at him. "I promise Trouble will be taken care of and we will call you tomorrow morning with an update. But it's really just procedure, Trouble should be able to go back home with you tomorrow and then we can talk about what you need to do for him."

"Okay," Cas said. "Thank you, Stephanie."

"You're welcome, Cas, I promise Trouble will be in good hands," the woman smiled.

"Okay, let's go," Dean said, and ushered Cas out of the vet office.

His friend was quiet all the way back to the bunker. Dean finally sighed and turned to him. "Dude, what?"

"Dean, Trouble is there all alone," Cas said.

"He's not alone, he has other animals to talk to," Dean told him.

"But what if he thinks I abandoned him? He was an unwanted orphan, Dean, what if he thinks no one is coming back for him?"

"Cas, cats don't care about stuff like that. As long as they have shelter and food, they're good, no matter who they're with." Besides, he would probably be more worried that he would wake up without his nuts.

Cas glared at him, and Dean rolled his eyes, but realized how harsh his words had probably come across so he tried to amend it a bit. "Hey, he'll be taken care of, I promise. Now let's get back and have something to eat, okay?"

Cas didn't talk to him for the rest of the ride, and wouldn't speak until he told the much more sympathetic Sam what had happened. Dean tried to ignore them. He realized he probably should have been nicer to Cas about the whole situation, but still…

He plopped the neutering brochures in front of Sam as he sat at the table for lunch. "There you go, some nice mealtime reading material."

Sam made a face then looked behind him. Cas was working on washing the dried soap out of his hair from his interrupted shower earlier. "Dean, you can be a little nicer to Cas about this, you know. He's really attached to Trouble and he probably feels bad he got hurt on his watch."

"I know, I know," Dean sighed. "I promise I won't say another word."

Cas spent a restless day, and kept checking his phone for calls from the vet.

"What if something has happened?" he asked anxiously in the late afternoon.

Sam smiled reassuringly. "Cas, if something happened they would call."

"But I haven't heard anything, how am I to know?"

"Trouble's probably just resting and perfectly fine. They're probably feeding him dinner right now," Sam told him. "They said they would call in the morning."

"What if he doesn't like the food they give him? You know he's particular."

"Well, then he'll just be all the more glad to come back home with you in the morning," Sam said kindly.

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes. Trouble wouldn't be the only one who would be glad.

~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, as was usual with their lives, things just couldn't go easily.

Dean was just dozing off again in the early morning after he had heard Cas bump around across the hall, getting up way too early, when he heard a muffled phone ringing in the peppy ringtone Cas had on his phone.

Great, he thought and buried his face in his pillow. That would be the vet and as soon as the call was over, Cas would be knocking on his door ready to go.

"What?!" he heard Cas yelp.

Dean froze. That didn't sound good.

Some more muffled conversation happened before Cas pounded down the hall and threw open Dean's door.

"Dude…" Dean moaned.

"Dean, Trouble is missing!" Cas yelled frantically.

"What?" Dean asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Stephanie the vet just called me, she said that when she went in to open up the office this morning, and check on the animals Trouble's cage was open and he was gone. She said she looked everywhere in the office and he's nowhere!" Cas was tearing his hair into disarray with his anxiety.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, joining Cas in the doorway.

"We have to go find him, Dean!" Cas told him.

Dean closed his eyes for a minute but then nodded and swung his legs out of the bed. "Okay, Cas. Sam get dressed and go make coffee, we're going to hunt down a cat."

Ten minutes later they were in the Impala and on their way to the vet's office to start from the beginning and also to see if maybe Trouble was just hiding from Stephanie. Dean knew from experience that Trouble was the king of hide and seek. He had once hidden from Dean for two days when Sam and Cas had left him at the bunker with a busted wrist while they took out a nest of vamps. The cat had eventually reappeared when Cas got back, popping right out from one of the kitchen cupboards.

"Well, he's a gimp right now, so he couldn't have gotten too far," Dean said halfheartedly. He hoped.

"What if he's not in the office though?" Cas said. "What if he got out somehow? He can't run and he could get hit by a car!"

"We'll find him, Cas," Sam said softly, turning to look at their distressed friend. "Like Dean said, Trouble couldn't have gotten that far. He's probably just hiding from the vets."

"Yeah, I would too if they kept talking about cutting my nuts off," Dean muttered.

They entered the office to find Stephanie standing at the front desk. She looked up as they came in and hurried over to them.

"I'm so sorry this has happened," she said, touching Cas gently on the shoulder. "I promise we'll do everything we can to find Trouble. I can't believe he got out of his cage. I double check all the cages before I leave every night."

"Well, he is a very active cat," Dean told her. "Not to mention good at hiding, we have a feeling he's probably avoiding you. He does that."

"With Cas here though, he may come out," Sam told her hopefully.

"Feel free to look all over the building, we aren't officially open yet," Stephanie said, checking a wristwatch. "I need to check on the other animals and then I'll help you look again."

Dean sighed as Cas shot off to the back rooms, and he shared a longsuffering look with his younger brother.

"Dean," Sam gave him a bitchface. "Come on."

"Fine," Dean gritted out. He knew the quicker they found Trouble the quicker they could get out of there.

He headed back toward the examination room, and peeked under and in everything, even the places he didn't think Trouble could fit because, you never knew, but came up with nothing. He could hear Cas calling for the cat, and Sam doing the same, but it seemed that neither of them were having much luck.

Dean found his way to the kennels and took a peek into each cage just to make sure that Trouble wasn't bunking with someone else, like an attack dog for protection or something—or some lady cat, thinking it was his last night to make good on that. But again there was no sign of Trouble.

They searched the whole vet office up and down, inside everything and under everything, but Trouble was still no where to be found.

Cas slumped down in chair in the waiting room. "I was sure he would be fine, I don't understand why he ran away."

He looked so miserable and akin to a five-year-old Sammy that Dean felt his big brother instincts kick in and he grudgingly patted Cas on the shoulder. "We'll find him, Cas, I promise."

Cas sighed. "We looked everywhere."

"But not outside yet," Sam suggested. "It's possible he found some way to slip out."

"Then he could be anywhere! He could have gotten hit by a car!" Cas cried.

"Don't think of the worst yet," Dean said quickly. "Look, you can keep looking in here if you want. Sam and I will go outside."

Cas nodded and Stephanie came back in to help him look some more as Sam and Dean left the office.

"Dean, what if Trouble did get out and got hit by a car?" Sam asked quietly.

"Let's not even entertain that notion," Dean grunted. "But if he did, I would rather it be us that found him instead of Cas." Despite the front he had put on, the thought of Trouble meeting some terrible end made Dean cringe, and not just for Cas' sake. The cat might be annoying at best, but Dean had gotten used to him, and would admit that the bunker would feel empty without the little critter.

He and Sam split up, the younger Winchester going out back to look around the dumpsters, which seemed like a likely place if Trouble was looking for food, while Dean cast around the bushes at the front of the building and in the parking lot.

Something flicked and he caught movement out of the corner of his eye as he turned in that direction, seeing the spot where he had parked the Impala.

He frowned and started over toward the car, and saw a dark shadow retreat further behind a tire.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered as he bent down and looked under the car, seeing a fuzzy black shape with wide green eyes. "Trouble, you little rascal, get out here."

He reached under but Trouble hissed and shrunk back. Dean sighed. "Come on, daddy Cas is worried sick, you did a very bad thing running away." He couldn't believe he was talking to a cat like that, but oh well. He reached further under the car, almost flat on his face now and only got more angry hissing and a scratch across his forearm for his trouble. "Ouch! Dammit, Trouble!"

The cat flicked his tail in satisfaction. Dean sighed. "Okay, dude, come on, can't you be a man about this? I promise I won't let them cut your nuts off. As long as you promise not to get any girl cats pregnant no one cares, okay? Now come on!"

He finally succeeded in reaching under the car and snagging Trouble by the scruff of his neck, though not without a lot of yowling and scratching until Dean's arms were covered in scratches. He didn't know how Trouble could manage so much damage with one paw in a cast. It seemed like he had six clawed feet working instead of just three.

"Come on, man," he pleaded as he gathered the cat against his chest, which only resulted in Trouble repeatedly digging claws into his chest and stomach.

"Dean, you found him?" Sam came hurrying over.

"Yep," Dean said with a wince. "Trying to sneak back home with us I think."

They hurried back toward the vet office where Cas and Stephanie were once again searching the waiting area and Trouble stopped struggling and mrowed eagerly as he saw his human, finally refraining from tearing Dean to ribbons.

Cas looked up instantly. "Trouble!" he cried and hurried over scooping the cat from Dean's arms and holding him happily as Trouble nuzzled against his chest and purred. "Don't you ever do something like that again, Trouble, you had me worried!" Cas scolded.

Dean's eyes went skyward, but he was glad Trouble was back safe and sound.

Stephanie came over to them with a smile and stroked Trouble between the ears. "I'm so glad you found him. His cast his a little messed up, would you like me to see if I can fix it?"

"Yeah, and another thing," Dean said and didn't think he imagined Trouble shooting him a look of betrayal. He glared back. "Do you do those GPS chips?"

Stephanie smiled. "Yes, we do. I think that would be a good idea considering what a troublemaker Trouble is."

"While you're at it, you can put one in Cas and Sam too," Dean quipped, only half joking.

Stephanie laughed and nodded toward the back room. "Come on, it will only take a little bit and you can stay with Trouble the whole time, Cas."

An hour later they were back at the bunker where Cas curled up on the couch with Trouble dozing happily in his lap. Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Well, at least we won't lose the cat again," he said.

Sam smirked. "Come on, Dean admit it, you would be sad if he ran away."

Dean scoffed. "Only because you two wouldn't shut up about it."

But once Sam went off to the kitchen, Dean looked over at Cas and the cat, both sleeping now and the picture kind of made him admit that he was glad the cat was there. He went over and draped a blanket over Cas and then scratched Trouble behind the ears. One eye opened and Dean gave him a look.

"Don't do that again," he whispered to the cat. "Cas would be really upset if he lost you."

Trouble yawned, but snuggled closer to his human and Dean took that as enough of a confirmation.

"Alright," he said and left the two alone, glad that the bunker was at peace once again.


	21. Night at the Museum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during Season 9 And is co-written by Aini_NuFire (She wrote Charlie's POV and I wrote Cas')

Charlie pulled her yellow AMC Gremlin to a stop in front of the secret hideout for the Men of Letters. The Impala wasn't sitting in the drive, but it could have been in the garage. She hadn't been able to get a hold of Sam or Dean to tell them she was coming, or see whether they were even home and not across the country on a hunt or something. Charlie was hoping they were here, though, because she'd found a case nearby that was right up their alley.

Slipping her bag over one shoulder, she exited her car and crossed the gravel drive toward the steps that descended into a small dugout where the door stood. Raising her fist, she gave the door a few good pounds, then stuffed her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

A few moments later, the door creaked open a few inches with a grating screech, and a dark-haired stranger peered out at her.

Charlie hesitated. "Oh, hi. Uh, I'm looking for Sam and Dean."

The man roved his gaze up and down her warily, eyes crinkled as though trying to see right through her.

"I'm Charlie," she offered, holding out a hand in a proffered shake.

He stared at it for a moment before his suspicious expression morphed into recognition. "Charlie…oh, that Charlie."

She beamed at his tone, pleased that the Winchesters seemed to talk positively about her. Not that she expected the opposite, but she hadn't presumed they'd mention her to just anyone.

"Nice to meet you…?"

He clumsily took her hand and gave it a jerky shake. "Castiel."

Now it was her turn to gape like a dork. "Wait, you're Castiel? The Castiel?"

He tilted his head. "The only one I'm aware of."

She almost squealed in delight at finally getting to meet the famed angel who rebelled against Heaven to help the brothers, but then frowned at his black turtleneck sweater and jeans. "Where's the beloved trench coat?"

His brow furrowed. "The what?"

"You know, your signature get-up!" Charlie gestured to his clothes. "It's like your super angel cape."

Castiel shifted his weight. "Well, I'm actually not an angel anymore. I lost my grace, so I'm human now. And I lost that coat. Fitting given the circumstances, I suppose."

Charlie's brows shot upward. She'd read about Castiel in the Supernatural books, and the image she'd conjured of the brave, sometimes adorkable angel…didn't quite fit the guy standing in front of her. But then, he apparently wasn't an angel anymore. Which was kind of sadly tragic.

"Um, sorry?"

"Don't be. It was due to my own stupidity." Castiel stepped back, opening the door wider. "Excuse me, I'm still learning the nuances of human customs; please come in."

"Thanks," she said, feeling a little awkward. "Are Sam and Dean here? I tried calling to tell them I was stopping by."

"They're on a case in Montana," Castiel replied as he led the way down the stairs. "Somewhere in the mountains that's out of cell phone range."

Charlie pursed her mouth in slight disappointment. "Oh, so they'll be gone for several more days, huh?"

"Most likely." Castiel paused in the middle of the war room to abruptly turn and face her. "Are you in trouble? Do you need help?"

Charlie smiled at the concerned note in his voice. "No, nothing like that. I'm actually on a case that's nearby and thought I'd see if they wanted to come check it out with me. No biggie, though."

Castiel's frown deepened. "What kind of case?"

"A haunting," she replied, excitement bubbling up again. It was just the kind of hunt she'd always been intrigued by. "There's this really small museum a couple towns over that's been experiencing some weird phenomena—display items getting moved around, strange markings on the walls."

"Has anyone been killed?"

Charlie shook her head. "Not yet. But hey, why let a ghost get that far, right?"

Castiel drew his brows together in contemplation. "So you're going to go searching for this ghost?"

"Yup. Pretty sure I know whose it is, too." She slung her shoulder bag around to the front and dug out the flyer she'd printed from the Internet. "The museum recently acquired a collection from an archeological dig in Egypt, including real mummified remains." Charlie paused, an idea striking her. "Hey, want to come investigate with me?"

Castiel blinked. "What? Me?"

"Sure! Just because you don't have your angel powers anymore doesn't mean you don't still have mad skills. Come on, it'll be fun!" It would also give Charlie the chance to get to know the angel she'd only read about in books. Okay, ex-angel, but still.

Castiel rolled his shoulder uncertainly. "Well, I suppose since it does sound like a straightforward case…"

"Awesome!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "And I have the perfect cover for us to go in under."

~~~~~~~

Castiel watched his new companion as she drove toward their destination in the odd-looking beat up little yellow car that seemed to match her personality. She never seemed to stop talking. Not that it was a bad thing, exactly. She wasn't annoying or anything, it was just strange to hear someone talk constantly. Sam and Dean weren't exactly what one could call garrulous, after all. In fact, Charlie seemed to be the exact opposite of the Winchester brothers, but Castiel had to admit that there was something about her that grew on him. Perhaps it was simply her seemingly perpetually bubbly attitude.

However, he had his reservations about their cover for the hunt.

"I don't understand, why would antique appraisers be better than FBI?" he asked, pulling at the tie and cardigan he was wearing. Charlie had raided Dean's closet for something more appropriate for him to wear. Castiel had been surprised Dean even owned something like this, but then supposed it was probably for the same reason he was using it; disguise.

"It makes more sense," Charlie shrugged. "Besides, I'm uh, not too great at being FBI as it turns out. Anyway, this way we won't have people up in our business all the time. The museum staff should allow us to work alone. And they know we're coming." Charlie had called ahead, telling the museum their aliases and that they would be there within a couple hours.

"I suppose," Castiel nodded. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. He wasn't exactly the best at passing as FBI either, without Sam or Dean to cover for him if he made a mistake. He was still learning human mannerisms.

While Charlie drove, he turned to the information on the museum she had printed off, looking it over. It seemed odd that an Egyptian mummy might be the cause of the ghostly upset, but not entirely unfathomable. They were quite well preserved, after all, and were often kept with some of their most precious and personal possessions, so if this was the case, they could run into quite a problem trying to figure out what the ghost was attached to if simply burning the mummy didn't work. But that was all speculation. They wouldn't know for sure until they actually saw the situation.

They made it to the museum in good time and Charlie locked the car, going over to Castiel and fixing his tie, straightening it and tucking it more firmly into his cardigan.

"Okay, just remember, we are here as authenticators, and you are Marty Herbert and I am Susan Asimov. Got it?"

"Yes, I believe so," Cas said, frowning as she fiddled with his clothes.

"Great! Follow my lead." She slung her knapsack over one shoulder and strode off toward the entrance. Cas hurried to catch up with her.

They went straight up to the desk where a woman was standing.

"Hi, I'm Susan Asimov, and this is my colleague Marty Herbert. We are the authenticators."

"Yes, I was told you would be coming," the woman said, picking up a phone on the desk. "Just a second and I'll call the curator."

Cas looked around the large entrance room. There weren't really any displays there, but there were plenty of fliers for self-guided tours and signs telling about what one could see in the museum. He saw a poster for the new Egyptian exhibit promising ancient artifacts and a real mummy. Overall, the museum didn't exactly look like it was haunted but then in his experience places that were rarely did.

Soon though, the curator, a middle-aged man in a nice suit, walked up to the desk. He smiled and shook both Castiel's and Charlie's hands.

"Welcome Miss Asimov and Mr. Herbert, I'm very happy to welcome you to our museum. You came at just the right time. There are several pieces we need authenticated before we can properly display them. If you will follow me, I will show you to the room where you can do that."

Cas was slightly surprised he had taken to their cover so quickly, but wasn't going to complain. He and Charlie were led down an employees only hallway and to a restricted room with several crates and artifacts laid out on tables.

"These are from the new exhibit, and we just really want to get a date on them for authenticity."

"Well, that's what we do best," Charlie said.

"Before you do though, would you take a look at this?" the curator asked, pulling something out of a crate beneath the table. "We've been having some discord among the workers here as to where they really think this comes from."

He pulled out a small pot that had no distinguishing features as far as Castiel could see. The curator laid it on a cloth on the table and Charlie picked up a loupe from a collection of tools there and bent to look at it studiously.

"Hm, it is an interesting artifact," she said. "Good condition." She turned to Cas and looked at him like she wanted him to add something to the conversation.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, very for its apparent age."

"I think that's what is giving my staff trouble," the curator said. "What is your opinion on it?"

"Well," Charlie said slowly, eyes now opened wide and pleading with Cas, who didn't know what to do. "It is possible it could be Greek."

The curator frowned. "Greek? This was found in Central America."

"Of course," Charlie floundered. "I didn't mean Greek-Greek, I just meant, you know, uh…"

"Like Greek, it does share certain similarities in the make up of the clay," Cas said quickly. "Certain tribes in that area were known for their…advanced firing techniques, almost as good as the Greeks."

"I didn't know that," the curator said curiously. "Will that help you determine the exact period?"

"It's difficult to say, let me consult with my colleague," Charlie said and turned to Castiel, turning him away from the curator and lowering her voice. "Can't you just…you know, sniff it or something and tell him?"

"I have no powers, remember?" Castiel said blandly.

Charlie winced. "Oh, sorry, I forgot. Well, we better think of something or we're just going to get kicked out."

"Mayan," Castiel said suddenly. "Definitely Mayan."

"Really?" the curator said.

"Yes, probably around somewhere from 800 to 600 BC," Castiel added.

"We think it was used to catch blood from the human sacrifices," Charlie said. "Hence the red color of the clay."

The curator stared at them for a moment then shook his head. "Well, you know better about that stuff than I do. I never took much interest in the Americas. I suppose I'll leave you to this then. I'll come back to check on your progress in a while."

Charlie and Cas both breathed a sigh of relief as he left and Charlie instantly pulled out an EMF meter.

"Okay, now we can get down to business." She turned it on and started searching the room, already getting readings, especially as she went over closer to the doorway.

"How long do you think it will be before he comes back?" she asked.

"A while probably," Castiel said.

"Let's take a quick tour then," she said and Cas followed her as they followed the readings on the EMF.

They turned a corner at the end of the hallway where the meter was redlining and making a continual whine.

"This has got to be something," Charlie said then stopped and looked up at the wall. "Whoa."

Castiel looked up at what she was seeing and frowned as he saw several deep gouges carved into the wall at about shoulder height.

"What do you think that is?" Charlie asked.

Castiel touched one and shook his head. "If I didn't know better, I would say that it was made with a sword."

~~~~~~~

"A mummy with a sword," Charlie said, her level of excitement spiking like the readings on the EMF reader. "Maybe it was one of Pharaoh's guards. Or even a Medjay!"

Castiel frowned at her. "We should probably take a look at the mummy before making such conclusions."

"Right, of course," she said quickly, even as she couldn't help but keep grinning. Granted, she knew that a ghost meant they would likely have to burn the mummified remains in the end, which was unfortunate. But at the same time, this was no ordinary ghost, and that lent an air of mystery to the case.

"What are you doing?" a voice called out.

Charlie jolted so abruptly she almost dropped the EMF scanner, which she quickly hid behind her back before turning to the woman who'd walked in on them.

"Oh," Charlie fumbled. "We're the authenticators for the museum's recent acquisition. And we just couldn't help admiring the rest of your collection before we got to work."

The young Asian woman regarded them suspiciously through black-rimmed glasses. After a moment, she adjusted her grip on the cardboard box in her arms and turned her nose up slightly. "Well, don't touch anything or you might be accused of breaking it."

"We'll be careful," Charlie promised, holding up a 'scout's honor' salute.

"May we ask you about these marks on the wall?" Castiel spoke up.

The woman frowned and came closer, the contents in her box rattling slightly. Charlie noticed a stack of folders, pencil holder, and a small potted plant. It looked like the woman had been clearing out her desk.

The staff member's frown deepened as she surveyed the gouges on the wall. "Those weren't there yesterday. Ugh, I'll probably be blamed for that too now."

Castiel canted his head at her belongings. "Your employment has been terminated?" he asked.

Charlie winced at his lack of tact.

The woman drew her shoulders back. "I was just interning here. But with the freaky-ass stuff going on, I'm better off getting out."

Charlie perked up. "What freaky stuff?"

"Like that." The ex-employee nodded to the wall. "Display items getting switched around, broken. I tried to tell them it wasn't me, but hey, blame the new girl, right?" She shook her head and scowled. "I should've gone into pre-med like my parents wanted." Shifting her hold on the box, she started toward the exit.

"Wait," Charlie called. "When did these strange occurrences start happening?"

The young woman shrugged. "I don't know, a few days, maybe a week?"

"Did it begin when the artifacts from Egypt arrived?" Castiel asked.

She furrowed her brow. "Um, I guess so. Why?"

"No reason," Charlie replied. "And, uh, good luck. Don't give up on your dreams."

The intern rolled her eyes and pivoted around to walk out.

Charlie turned back to Castiel. "We need to take a look at that mummy."

The mummified remains were being kept in the adjoining storage room to the other artifacts, so the two of them made their way there. Charlie pulled out the EMF scanner again and waved it over the crate. The readings edged into the red with a high-pitched squeal.

"I think we've found our ghost," Charlie declared, then frowned in contemplation. "Hm, we'll have to wait till after everyone's gone home to burn the bones."

"The museum staff are not going to appreciate that," Castiel said gravely.

Charlie grimaced in agreement. It was too bad. The museum had been advertising this new acquisition in the hopes of gaining more patronage. It was difficult for small museums like this to get put on the map.

"They could always blame the incident on the curse of the mummy," she said. "I bet that would gain some attraction from the public."

"What curse?" Castiel asked.

"You know, whoever disturbs the mummy will either die, get sick, or have really bad luck," Charlie explained.

Castiel was now regarding the crate warily. "So…if we open this to burn it, we'll be cursed?"

She opened her mouth to refute that, but then paused. "Oh, uh. Well, I don't think it's actually cursed. Just, the museum could play up the hype."

Or so she really hoped. Besides, she hadn't read about anyone at the museum becoming sick, getting into a freak accident, or dying. And unless they counted the poor intern's getting fired as bad luck, there probably wasn't a curse.

Probably.

"We should get back to the other artifacts, pretend to look busy," Charlie suggested.

Castiel agreed, and they went into the other room again. The curator came to check on their progress, to which Charlie assured him that the museum had gotten quite the collection. After he left, she dragged Castiel off to find the public restroom.

"We'll hide in here until everyone's gone."

Castiel gave the Men's door a dubious look. "Why here?"

"Because cleaning crews don't come by until early morning before opening. No one will check in here." She gave Castiel a slight push, and then ducked into the ladies' room herself.

Sitting on top of the toilet tank and watching the digits tick by on her watch was incredibly mind-numbing, and nowhere near as exciting as she thought hunts should be. Funny how the tedious grunt work was never mentioned in songs or tales.

An hour after everyone should have gone home, Charlie finally crept out of the stall and peeked into the gallery. It was dark, and everything was quiet. She slipped over to the Men's room and knocked faintly.

"Castiel."

A moment later the door opened and the ex-angel emerged, looking antsy. "We should finish this quickly and leave."

Charlie grinned. "Easy as pie."

"I never understood that reference," Castiel said as he followed her back toward the storage rooms. "Making pie is not easy. Or does it refer to eating pie? Because Dean has proven that is quite an easy task. If it were humanly possible, I think he would inhale it."

Charlie chuckled. "Easy as Dean scarfing down pie," she agreed. She pulled a lighter out of her pocket. "Okay, here we go."

They had to watch their step as they entered the second storage room, and Charlie clicked the lighter on, casting an orange halo around the area. They both pulled up short. The crate's lid had been pushed slightly to the side, smears of disturbed dust around the tracks. Charlie's jaw slackened as she peered over the edge.

The mummy was gone.

~~~~~~~

"Um…okay, change of plans?" Charlie inquired, gulping.

Castiel frowned as he peered over her shoulder into the empty coffin. "That is strange. Usually ghosts don't use their actual bodies to move around. Perhaps it is a curse."

"You've been watching too many movies," Charlie said, seeming to try and hide her sudden nervousness.

"Actually, I haven't," Castiel replied truthfully.

"What if it's just using its body to get around because it can?" Charlie said. "Maybe whatever the ghost is anchored to is wrapped up with it. A lot of times, the embalmers would tuck jewels and charms throughout the wrappings. That's why the Victorians thought it was fun to hold mummy unwrapping parties to find the treasures." She shuddered. "Creepy."

"One of the more questionable social pastimes of the Victorian era," Castiel agreed. "This may be an advantage in our hunt, however. Since the mummy is seemingly corporeal, it will not be as difficult to track down."

"Speaking of which, we should probably do that," Charlie said quickly.

Castiel nodded. "Yes, we should."

He pulled out a flashlight and led the way down the darkened corridors of the museum. Every time the flashlight caught one of the displays it sent strange silhouettes across the floor and walls, which caused them both to be on high alert.

"Really, how hard can an ancient mummy be to find?" Charlie asked after a while. "It's not like he can actually run fast."

"Not that we know of, anyway," Castiel corrected and then caught a sound off to the right of them, down another hallway. "Wait."

"What is it?" Charlie whispered, inching closer to Castiel, still gripping the lighter in her hand.

"I heard something." Castiel raised the flashlight, peering into the darkness, and tried to see if anything was there. That was when the light started flickering and finally went out. The temperature also drastically plummeted.

"Oh crap," Charlie said in a small voice.

Castiel was already reaching for his angel blade when a loud crashing clank was heard and a figure rose out of the darkness right in front of them, brandishing a sword.

Charlie yelped and leapt back just in time as the blade sliced a downward arc that nearly cut her in half.

Castiel just barely got a chance to notice that this was not the mummy in question, but in fact, a knight in full suit of armor, before the thing turned on him and raised its sword again. Castiel ducked and rolled, the blade catching him across the upper arm but missing his head. He hissed and leapt back further as the knight continued to advance, raising its sword again for another blow.

"Hey, assbutt!"

The knight turned at Charlie's shout and got a face full of salt. Something roared angrily and a ghostly shadow flew out of the armor, leaving it to clatter to the ground in various pieces.

Charlie looked down at it with an expression halfway between exhilaration and fear before she looked over at Castiel.

"Um, well, that happened."

Castiel began to climb to his feet and Charlie hurried forward, hopping over the pieces of armor to help him. He hissed as she touched his injured arm.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, plucking at the sweater to see better.

"I'll be fine, it's just a scratch," Castiel assured her, then cocked his head to one side. "Assbutt?"

She shrugged. "Hey, it's a good line. Hope you don't mind."

Castiel shook his head and bent to inspect the armor, turning the flashlight back on. Now that the ghost was gone it was working once again. He touched a slick of dark goo on the flat side of the sword and brought his finger to the light for closer inspection.

"Is that ecto?" Charlie asked, leaning over him.

"I believe so," Castiel replied, straightening up again. "Which means we are definitely dealing with a ghost." That did raise the question however, as to what the mummy ghost was doing in a suit of armor. And where the mummy's body had gone.

"Well, I guess that explains the sword marks on the walls," Charlie mused. "But what the heck? Did the mummy decide to steal a suit of armor or is this something else entirely?"

"I think we need to do some more investigating," Castiel decided. "We came rather ill prepared."

Charlie looked a bit sheepish. "Yeah, I guess I got overly excited. Here, I brought a crowbar though; the iron should repel any ghosties in the vicinity."

Castiel took the crowbar that Charlie pulled out of her knapsack as she kept a firm grip on the can of salt, and they advanced forward again, taking another corridor into a different exhibit. Castiel looked around and caught sight of an empty spot along one wall.

"Charlie, look at this," he said, pointing to the spot. A plaque that sat in front of it stated that it was supposed to be the residence of a suit of armor.

"Well, that answers the question about where the armor came from," she said. "But not why it was taking a midnight stroll."

The flashlight started to flicker again and the two of them took ready positions, brandishing their weapons.

A scraping metal clank sounded out down the hall they had come from, heralding the ghost's return to the suit of armor. But as they listened to the clanging footsteps advancing in one direction, Castiel caught another sound behind them, like shuffling thuds.

"Charlie," he said urgently.

"What?" she asked.

"I think we have more company."

They both cast a look behind them to see what they were dealing with.

Out of the shadows shuffled an actual animated mummy.

~~~~~~~

Charlie's mouth dropped open at the desiccated corpse shambling toward them. Worn pieces of wrapping hung in tatters from its neck and arms, leaving a brown, leathery face and hands fully visible.

A metallic clang had Charlie whipping her head the other direction as the walking suit of armor made its appearance. She glanced back and forth between them several times, almost giving herself whiplash.

"Um…" There were two ghosts?

The knight stood at one end of the gallery, sword raised, while the mummy blocked the main exit, with Charlie and Castiel trapped in between. Then they charged.

But instead of attacking the would-be hunters, the suit of armor threw itself at the mummy, who let out an enraged shriek as it collided with the bulky body. Charlie and Castiel stumbled backward, their backs hitting the wall, and gaped at the knight and mummy suddenly going at each other. Both animated spirits were somewhat clumsy—the knight with its heavy joints and the mummy with some of its limbs misshapen. They barreled into a display case, knocking over the priceless vase within and shattering it.

The knight swung his sword, but even disfigured, the mummy was quick and ducked under the swing. The blade struck the wall with a thud, taking out a whole chink. As the knight struggled to wrench his sword free, the mummy swept around behind the armor, and looked toward Charlie and Castiel.

Charlie felt an invisible tug, and suddenly her can of salt was yanked from her hands and thrown through the air. "Hey!"

It hit the suit of armor, spilling salt down its side. In a swish of gray smoke, the ghost was momentarily banished and the suit collapsed into pieces with a raucous clatter.

The mummy turned fully toward its audience, waves of malevolence wafting off of it.

Charlie tensed. "Oh crap," she squeaked.

Castiel stepped in front of her, brandishing his crowbar, but before he could get close enough, the mummy waved its arm and Castiel went flying through the air to crash into another display case, at least this time with less fragile items.

Charlie's gaze snapped back to the mummy, terror making her heart jackhammer behind her rib cage. She was now weaponless, unless one of these artifacts was made of iron. She started frantically scanning for one nearby while the mummy advanced on Castiel, who lay in a dazed heap of broken glass.

Charlie caught a glint in the dim light, and straightened as her eyes registered a bronze amulet around the mummy's neck. It was the only object she could see on the corpse, and dearly hoped that was what they needed to destroy.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Charlie took a running leap at the mummy, scrambling to yank the chain off. The mummy's dried, gnarled fingers clutched at her jacket and flipped her over onto her back. She gasped as the wind was punched from her lungs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Castiel push himself up and stumble forward with the crowbar again. The mummy took a step back from Charlie and flicked its hand again. The iron crowbar went flying out of Castiel's hand. Then the ghost strode forward and grabbed Cas by his throat, lifting him off the ground.

His legs kicked desperately as he clawed at the mummy's wrinkled arm, to no avail. Charlie was still trying to catch her breath while Castiel struggled for his. Then she spotted the pieces of armor rattling as they began to reassemble themselves.

Oh no.

The crowbar was too far away, so Charlie started crawling toward her container of salt left lying on the floor. For some reason, the reanimated knight ignored her, and lumbered toward the mummy. Charlie's heart seized in fear. Could ghosts sense an ex-angel?

She'd just reached the salt and scooped it up, rolling upright to get to her feet, when she saw the knight swing his sword and deftly cut the amulet from the mummy's neck. One of the chain links caught on the edge of the blade, and then the knight was flinging the piece of jewelry Charlie's way. The mummy dropped Cas and whirled on the suit of armor.

Charlie had no idea what to make of all this, except that Castiel was coughing on the floor as two enraged spirits duked it out practically on top of him. Charlie fished out a lighter from her pocket and fumbled to get a flame ignited. She slapped the amulet down in the spilled pile of salt and threw the lighter on top of it.

It took a few seconds while the knight seemed to be distracting the mummy, but then the dehydrated body jerked, and a horrible wail went up as the ghost inside burst into flames. The now vacated mummified remains toppled to the floor, dark gunk leaking out of it.

The suit of armor straightened and turned toward Charlie. She went rigid, her lighter now unreachable in the flames still consuming the amulet, unless she wanted to risk burning her hand yanking it out.

Before she could decide whether it was worth it to maim herself, the suit of armor relaxed, half turned, and began clanking back to its empty display case where it climbed onto the platform and settled, limbs slackening with a final grating sound.

Charlie blinked stupidly, but then shook herself out of it and rushed over to Castiel. The ex-angel was starting to sit up, one hand rubbing at his throat.

"Are you okay?" Charlie exclaimed.

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but ended up coughing instead. He nodded.

Charlie glanced at the mummy corpse, then at the suit of armor, now back in its proper resting place. "What the heck just happened?"

Castiel cleared his throat, voice coming out particularly rough. "It seems the…suit of armor was…" He coughed and grimaced. "Protecting its territory."

Charlie's brows rose. So all the weird stuff that had been happening—the broken artifacts, marks on the wall—they were just signs of two really old spirits duking it out?

"Um, should we try to salt and burn the…?" She surreptitiously jerked her chin toward the suit of armor.

Castiel frowned, and he started to push himself up. Charlie grabbed his arm and helped him all the way to his feet. The ex-angel was silent for a long moment as he gazed at the now silent suit of armor. "The ghost seems to have become dormant."

"Maybe we should leave it, then," Charlie suggested, eyeing the thing warily. "I mean, only the mummy tried to kill us."

Castiel's mouth pressed into a tight line. "I don't think Sam and Dean would advise that."

"But he was like, a good ghost!" Charlie protested. "He helped me salt and burn the amulet, and like you said, he was just protecting the museum." She nodded resolutely. "I think we should leave him to his noble charge."

Castiel arched a dismayed brow at her, but didn't try to talk her out of it. "I…suppose that is acceptable. We can keep checking in, make sure the ghost stays dormant."

Charlie beamed, and hurried around to gather up the salt container and crowbar, which she stuffed back into her knapsack. They should probably put the mummy back in its crate, but she didn't really feel like touching the thing. Maybe the intern could get her job back when the museum staff realized she wasn't responsible for the mess, though good luck finding an explanation for…this.

Castiel was still rubbing his bruised neck, so Charlie decided it was better if they left quickly, get him back to the bunker. On their way out, she paused by the suit of armor and gave it a Girl's Scout salute.

"As you were, soldier."

~~~~~~~

They got back to the bunker by dawn and Castiel felt utterly exhausted. He was getting more used to the overall aches and pains that accompanied the typical hunt, but that didn't make it anymore comfortable to experience.

"Well, that was exciting," Charlie commented as she parked the vehicle and they got out to head inside. She had a surprising glow in her eyes that made Cas even more tired just looking at it.

"You seem very energized for having been up all night fighting territorial ghosts," he told her, slightly envious. He had never appreciated the concept of pure exhaustion until he had become human.

Charlie waved her hand dismissively. "Please, pulling all-nighters is kinda what I do. Hunting is just a perk. Way cooler than sitting and staring at a computer screen for hours."

Castiel shook his head with a small smile. He had to admit that there was something catching about Charlie's enthusiasm. She made a very enjoyable hunting partner.

They cleaned up and Charlie insisted on patching Cas up, though he really hadn't been hurt that badly. The cut on his arm didn't even need stitches. His throat was still sore though from his near strangulation, and Charlie got him an ice pack so it wouldn't swell dangerously.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving," Charlie told him as she cleaned up the first aid kit. "Hunting really gives you an appetite. How about you?"

"I could eat," Castiel smiled in reply, his stomach grumbling at the mention of food.

"I can make pancakes," Charlie informed him and set to work, rummaging through the kitchen and pulling out the proper ingredients.

Fifteen minutes later, they were enjoying tall stacks of pancakes dripping in butter and syrup and the exhaustion was starting to overcome Castiel. He saw Charlie trying to stifle a yawn.

"You wanna watch a movie or something?" Charlie asked him. "I'm kinda too charged to sleep but I think we deserve to relax."

Castiel nodded and they headed into the den. He sat on the couch as Charlie found a movie and started playing it before settling next to Castiel and grabbing a pillow to hug against her chest.

"Thanks for going on the hunt with me, Castiel," she said. "You're a pretty awesome hunting partner."

Cas smiled and turned to her. "You are too."

It wasn't long before Charlie nodded off and slumped against Castiel's shoulder. Castiel fondly watched the red-head sleep for a few seconds before he too nodded off, exhaustion taking over.

A few hours later, Sam and Dean returned from their own hunt, waking Castiel and Charlie as they clomped down the metal stairs.

"Hey!" Sam grinned as he saw Charlie. "Look who's here."

"What are you doing in our neck of the woods, kiddo?" Dean asked with a fond smile as she got off the couch and gave them both a hug.

"Oh, ya know, just stopping by to say hi," Charlie told him. "Gotta check up on you two every once in a while."

"I see you met Cas," Sam added.

"Yep, we've been having a great time." Charlie winked at him and Cas smiled back.

"So what have you been up to?" Dean asked with a slight frown.

Castiel shrugged. "Oh, not much."

"Just hanging out with my new BFF," Charlie added nonchalantly.

"Well, while you're here, Dean and I think we found another case, you two want in?" Sam asked.

Cas and Charlie looked at each other and shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

They all sat down at the library table, discussing the case and laughing about various things, and Castiel decided that being human wasn't entirely terrible after all.


	22. Cas Goes to a Haunted House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during Season 9

"Aren't we a little, you know, old for this, Dean?" Sam asked as he surveyed the fair grounds skeptically.

"Shut up, everyone has to have fun sometimes, Sammy," Dean told him. "And we've been putting in a lot of hours lately. Besides, Cas never got to do any of this stuff." He nodded to the angel who was perusing a pumpkin patch nearby. "And who says we're too old for this? There's a ton of adult people here, plus awesome food, and—ooh." Dean's attention was instantly snagged by two young women walking past in unnecessarily revealing Halloween costumes. "Did I mention the sexy costumes?"

Sam snorted. "Yeah, okay. You go have fun clogging your arteries and getting restraining orders, I'll take Cas around."

"Sounds good," Dean grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't let him eat too much before he goes on the Tilt-A-Whirl. Oh, and Sammy…"

"What?"

Dean looked at him seriously in the eyes. "They're not out to get you."

Sam furrowed his brow. "What isn't?"

"You know." Dean grinned. "Catch ya later."

Sam huffed, but couldn't help a small look around—just to make sure. Of course Dean wouldn't let him forget about the clown thing—he still hadn't forgotten about the clown thing. He wished it wasn't a thing at all, but, well, even hunters had to be scared of something, right?

But it was Halloween, hopefully that meant there were be more ghosts and chainsaw wielding madmen and not so many clowns—those, he could deal with. Either way, he would just have to be a man about it.

Because if he wasn't, Dean would never let him live it down.

~~~~~~~

Castiel looked up from the pumpkins and turned to see Sam walking over to him. The ex-angel smiled. "Sam, is Dean coming?"

"He ditched us for women and food, but we'll have more fun without him anyway. What do you want to do first?"

"I'd like to see the corn maze, I'm not entirely sure of the attraction so I would like to see for myself."

Sam grinned. "Okay, let's head over there then."

They walked through the fair grounds, past several of the booths, the smell of deep fried food and apple cider filling the air as kids ran around in costumes, laughing, and their adult counterparts chased after them, probably wishing they hadn't let the children consume so much candy. Cas watched happily as he always did when he got to observe humans having fun. Of course, now he was just one of them, and not an angel sent to watch over humanity. It was humbling in a way, and only made him want to learn how to fit in all the more.

They got to the corn maze and got into the short line where a local charity was selling tickets. Sam paid for their tickets and they entered the tall stalks of corn that had been carved into pathways.

"This looks…confusing," Cas said, frowning slightly as a small Darth Vader and a Jedi pushed past them.

"I think they usually mark the paths," Sam said, "but you can't really get totally lost either. Oh yeah, and there might be people that jump out at you, but they're just actors, so don't stab them or punch them in the throat or anything."

Cas nodded. "Of course. Thank you for telling me."

They ventured into the maze. Sam was almost tall enough that if he jumped, he could see the other pathways, but it wouldn't really have done any good as there was a ton of different ways to go, and a bunch of other people milling around. Pretty soon Sam and Cas were hopelessly lost.

"I thought I saw a marker back that way," Cas pointed behind them where a group of teenage girls were heading.

Sam looked around. "Maybe we should try that way then."

They turned around just in time to hear a bout of screaming. Sam and Cas instinctively rushed forward before the nervous giggles started, and saw the girls hurrying away from a costumed axe murderer, covered in fake blood.

"Perhaps this is not the best place for people of our profession," Cas stated as they continued on.

Sam chuckled wryly. "Yeah, it can be kind of nerve-wracking, but it's good to have fun sometimes too."

Cas wasn't exactly sure why anyone would choose to be scared for fun but maybe that was one of those human things that he didn't quite understand yet.

Pretty soon, he and Sam had stumbled into a more deserted part of the maze. In fact, no one was around here at all and it seemed to be at the far end of the corn field as the lights from the fair grounds only reached this portion enough to cast eerie shadows and not enough to really light the way. The sound of human activity was also muffled.

"This seems kind of…eerie," Cas commented, glancing sideways at Sam, afraid he would call him out for being scared like Dean definitely would have, but the younger Winchester nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it's definitely kind of creepy," he admitted. They stopped as they heard a rustling up ahead, and Cas found himself reaching for the blade he hadn't brought.

"This is ridiculous," Sam chuckled. "It's just obviously another person."

They strode forward several more feet when a figure dressed in bright colors suddenly leapt out at them with a shout. Cas didn't have time to see exactly what happened before Sam was suddenly not standing beside him, but had let out a sudden yelp accompanied by the sound of rustling corn stalks. Cas whipped around to see the figure, a man in a clown outfit, doubled over laughing before he retreated back to a dark corner. Cas gave the clown a glare before he turned to the furrow dug into the corn and crawled through it.

"Sam?" he called and almost tripped over the young man who sat, looking dazed, on the ground. Cas looked around and saw they were in the open again. "I see you found the way out."

Sam huffed and Cas offered a hand to help pull him to his feet. "Yeah, I guess that guy just startled me." He looked nervous though, and Cas frowned.

"Sam, is something wrong? I've never seen you act like that, not even on a hunt."

"It's nothing," Sam said all too quickly. Cas knew he was avoiding something.

Then he remembered hearing Dean tease Sam about a 'clown phobia' on several occasions and things started to click into place. He gave the hunter an understanding look. "Sam, it's okay to be afraid of clowns. They are rather…unsettling."

"I'm not afraid of—" Sam defended, but then bit off his words with a sigh. "Okay, fine, I don't like clowns, but I can deal with it. I'm…I'm getting better." The last was another lie that Cas saw through but decided not to comment on. That was something he had learned from his short stint as a human, if nothing else.

"It's okay, Sam, we'll go do something else. I would like to try some of the apple cider."

Sam smiled in what Cas thought was a grateful way. "Okay, that sounds good. It's a bit chilly now that the sun has gone down."

They went back out to the main thoroughfare and found the vendor selling steaming cups of spiced cider. The aroma of cinnamon, cloves and apples was one Cas found very pleasing, and the cider tasted just like the smell promised.

They wandered over to a pumpkin carving competition that was going on and watched the teams of children carve out their jack-o-lanterns to see who could come up with the scariest face.

"Can we get a pumpkin on the way out?" Cas asked as he watched. "I think I would enjoy carving one."

"Yeah, sure," Sam said with a grin. "Wow, I haven't done a jack-o-lantern since I was a kid. And even then we only got one because Dean stole the pumpkins from someone's front porch."

Cas cast a sympathetic look at his friend. Sam and Dean hadn't had a very good childhood and he imagined that watching these children and their happy families was rather bittersweet. Cas may not have had a human childhood, but he'd had loving brothers and sisters to care for his as a fledgling, and had not had any of the heavy responsibilities the Winchesters had until he had gotten older. He supposed that going to fairs and having fun like this was just as unknown in Sam and Dean's past as it was in his, so it was no wonder Dean decided to take some time off and try to enjoy these things when they had the chance.

Cas and Sam finished their cider and started walking around to see what else there was to do.

"I wonder if we should call Dean," Cas said.

Sam shook his head. "I'm sure he's fine wherever he is. We'll probably meet up with him in another hour or so."

That was when something else caught Cas' eye. He looked over and saw a large structure with lights and eerie sounds and smoke coming from it, along with a large sign announcing that it was a 'haunted house'. He stopped Sam and pointed.

"Sam, why would they have a haunted house here for people to go into? That doesn't seem very safe."

Sam chuckled. "No, Cas, it's not really haunted, they just have fake spooky stuff in there. Come on, let's go check it out, so you can see."

Cas was a bit dubious, wondering if they should at least have some salt with them, but Sam seemed confident enough, so he followed the taller man to the ticket booth and soon enough, they stepped inside.

A smoke machine was creating a misty atmosphere around the first room they stepped into which was made to look like a medieval dungeon. There were skeletons on racks and bloody torture implements scattered around, plus a man hanging from a rope off to one side. As Sam and Cas passed, the hanged man suddenly came to life and reached out for them.

"Sam!" Cas shouted, leaping backward and reaching inside his jacket where his blade still wasn't. Sam steadied him with a laugh.

"Don't worry, Cas, it's just like the corn maze," the younger Winchester told him and gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder. Cas looked back at the man and saw he was just hanging there again.

"But…how?" he asked with a frown as they continued on.

"He's hooked to a harness, he's not really hanging from his neck," Sam told him.

Cas began to rethink his decision to follow Sam in here in the next room, which was all mirrors. Cas only went two paces before he ran into one. Confused, he turned around, and ran into another one.

"How do you get out of this?" he asked, frustrated already and not liking the confusing, confines of this strange maze. It was a hundred times worse than the corn one.

"Just feel your way around—ouch!" Sam seemed to be in the same predicament, but he must have found a passage, because he suddenly disappeared.

"Sam?" Cas inquired as he tried to follow the hunter, but ended up just smacking into another mirror. "Sam, where are you?"

"Over here!" the voice came from several yards away. "Just keep going, Cas."

Cas tried but made little progress, and then something dropped from the ceiling with a shriek, and he flattened himself to the ground before he realized it was a fake ghost dangling on a string. Yes, these places where extremely bad for people who fought supernatural creatures on a daily basis. His newly human nerves were getting a fine workout.

He got a little further through the mirrors and finally came out into another room that was probably supposed to pantomime hell—lit with red light and fake fire along with recorded screams. Castiel nearly snorted. It looked nothing like the actual underworld.

That was when he realized that Sam wasn't there waiting for him.

"Sam?" he called, looking around the room. "Are you here?"

Maybe Sam was still stuck in the mirrors, but he hadn't heard him stumbling around and he hadn't come across him either. Maybe there was more than one exit and Sam had ended up in a different part of the house.

"Sam!" he called again, hoping for some reply.

A fake demon leapt out at him as he continued through the room and he just glared at it as he passed, obviously disappointing the actor in the costume. Whether this place was actually haunted or not, it was strange that he hadn't found Sam.

Starting to get worried, he headed back toward the mirrors and went back the way he had come, trying to find a different direction to travel—which was easier said than done.

"Sam? If you can hear me, let me know where you are!"

Fake bats swooped in front of him, which made him leapt back in surprise, but he continued forward, undaunted, and starting to get used to the supposedly scary things that popped up.

"Sam?" he called again.

This time, he heard a strangled sound coming from not too far away, yet still on the other side of the mirrors. That didn't sound like someone who was all right.

Cas frantically tried to find a way through the mirrors, but each time he thought he was going in the right direction, he ran into a wall. Finally, he'd had enough and simply kicked one, shattering it with his boot, and batting the shards away with his elbow before ducking through and into the next room.

This room looked like a demonic circus. There were blood-spattered red and white striped walls on two ends of the room, that were decorated with eyeless jester masks, and on the other two sides of the room, were walls of mirrors, big, small, all of them distorting the rest of the room and giving it an unreal nightmarish vibe.

But that wasn't all. There were two clowns there, also blood-spattered, one holding an axe, and the other holding a cleaver. Cas thought this was the most frightening thing he had seen, not to mention the fact that the mirrors multiplied the clowns into the twenties so it looked like a whole army of them were gathered in the small room.

But another figure caught Cas' eye as he stepped inside and looked around the room completely. Sam Winchester was huddled several feet away from him, his breath coming in short pants, and his eyes blown wide with terror.

"Sam!" Cas cried out, instantly crouching in front of the man and gripping his shoulders.

Sam jolted in his grasp, and Cas shook him slightly. "Sam, it's Cas, they're not going to hurt you, remember? They're just actors."

Seeming to see that something was actually wrong—finally—the actors in the clown costumes lowered their fake weapons and started coming forward.

"Is he alright?" one asked Cas.

Cas glared and waved a hand at them. "Give him space," he snapped, and the men retreated to the other side of the room almost sheepishly.

Sam blinked and seemed to finally see Cas, reaching out and grabbing his coat in a death grip. "C-Cas?"

Cas nodded and started pulling on the younger Winchester. "Come on, we'll get out of here."

"What is going on?" an angry voice demanded, coming into the room through the hole in the shattered mirror Castiel had made. A man in normal, dark clothes, holding a radio, was glaring down at Sam and Cas. "Did you break this?"

Cas stood up, pulling Sam to his feet. "I couldn't get through any other way, and it was an emergency. I had to get to my friend, he's having a panic attack."

The man took one look at Sam's pale, vacant face and his heaving shoulders and seemed to see he was telling the truth. "Okay, come on, let's get him some air." He motioned to the clowns. "Guys, take fifteen. We have to get this place cleaned up."

He led Cas and Sam to one side of the room where there was a hidden door and opened it for them. "Here you go,"

"Hey, man," one of the clowns said, snatching the wig off his head as he stepped cautiously toward Cas and Sam. "Sorry about that, we didn't know."

The ex-angel felt Sam tense slightly and quickly waved the man off. "It's okay, just let me get him out of here," Cas said shortly, knowing the men hadn't meant to give Sam a panic attack, but that didn't mean he wasn't feeling overly protective of his friend right now.

He led Sam outside, an arm around his shoulders and sat the younger Winchester down on a pile of hay bales just outside of the haunted house. Sam slumped onto them, and Cas crouched in front of him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Just breathe, Sam, try to calm down," he said quietly. He wasn't really sure what to do with panic attacks, but he remembered Dean telling this to Kevin on multiple occasions when the young man had first found out he was a prophet so Cas figured it would work for Sam too. Sam's breathing eventually evened out and Cas patted him quietly on the shoulder before standing up again to give the other man some space. He caught sight of a vendor selling hot chocolate nearby and went to purchase two cups, thinking something hot might help Sam as well.

When he got back, Sam had managed to calm his breathing, and he was sitting with his face in his hands. Cas sat down beside him.

"Sam?" he inquired and slipped one of the cups of cocoa into the hunter's shaking hands.

Sam startled a bit, but took the cup and sipped it with some encouragement. After a few minutes of silence, he hung his head again.

"Sorry about that, Cas," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to freak out on you like that."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Sam, sometimes the human mind just acts without your say-so. I've discovered this to definitely be the case," he said ruefully.

"I um…" Sam tried then cleared his throat. "Just being in there…when Lucifer had me in the cage, he was in my head, Cas. And…and he found out things about me, everything I feared, and that room…it looked almost like one of the places he would put me. I just—suddenly I was back in the cage and I panicked."

Cas gave him a sympathetic look. "That's very understandable, Sam. You went through a traumatic experience."

"I know," Sam said ruefully. "I just wish I could get over it, you know?"

"We all have our burdens to bear," Cas told him quietly. "Hell is not something you can brush off."

"I know." Sam looked up as a familiar voice called out to them.

"Hey, what are you two doing just sitting here?" Dean demanded as he came up with a plate of fried food in his hands. Then he saw Sam's face and was instantly at his brother's side, handing the plate to Cas. "Sammy? What happened?" He looked between his brother and Cas as Sam ran a hand over his face. "Was it clowns?" Dean asked Cas quietly.

"Yes, Dean, it was clowns," Sam muttered.

Sympathy and protectiveness flashed over Dean's face before he smiled and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Well, they didn't get you, did they? Let's call that a win." He motioned to the plate he had handed Cas. "Funnel cake?"

"Ugh," Sam groaned, but he looked better now and Cas answered Dean's questioning look with one of his own to let him know that Sam was, indeed, all right.

"How about we call it a night?" Dean suggested, clapping Sam on the knee and standing up. "I've tried everything here and none of the girls want any of this for some reason." He gestured to himself with indignation. "Why don't we go back to the bunker and watch horror movies?"

"That sounds good," Sam admitted.

"We can watch It," Dean smirked.

"Dude…" Sam started, giving his brother a major bitchface.

"Just kidding, little brother," Dean told him, ruffling his hair.

"Hey, we were going to get pumpkins for carving," Sam said as they neared the pumpkin patch. "Cas wanted a jack-o-lantern."

"Oh, cool!" Dean agreed with a grin. "Haven't made one of those in forever."

They picked out three big pumpkins on the way out and then got into the Impala and drove back home where they cleared off the table in the kitchen and started carving the pumpkins among a huge pile of pumpkin guts.

Cas looked at several designs on the internet and carefully tried to carve out a creepy, traditional jack-o-lantern face. Sam's turned out looking more like a vampire, and Dean was working carefully on his, sitting on the opposite side of the table from them.

"Hey, Sammy, check it out!" Dean said triumphantly as he turned the pumpkin around and revealed a clown face.

"You are such a jerk," Sam informed him, getting up from the table to find candles as Dean laughed.

"Hey, just trying to help you get over your phobia, bitch."

Cas shook his head and helped light the candles in the jack-o-lanterns. Then they turned the lights off and watched the flickering flames dance behind the creepy faces.

"I enjoyed that very much, thank you for showing me some Halloween traditions," Cas told the brothers.

"No problem," Dean told him and clapped him on the shoulder. "But you still haven't watched any horror movies, so come on."

They trooped out of the kitchen and spent the rest of the night watching scary movies.

The next morning the clown pumpkin was 'mysteriously' smashed.

 


	23. A Day in the Life of Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set Season 9 (Trouble!Verse) in answer to a request for a story from Trouble's POV. This was a really fun one to write :)

Trouble woke in his usual spot next to His Human—Cas. It was his spot curled in the crook of Cas' shoulder, or sometimes on top of his chest when it was cold because His Human was warm and a nice place to rest. Trouble stretched luxuriously, with a yawn, and could sense Cas waking up too. The human turned slightly and absently reached out to stroke Trouble behind the ears. Trouble purred happily and pushed his head into Cas' hand to let him know he shouldn't stop yet. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to get the picture as he looked at the beepy thing on the side table and climbed out of bed with a groan. Trouble mrowed in annoyance as he curled up in Cas' warm spot, watching His Human gather clothes.

"Time to get up, Trouble," Cas said sleepily as he left the room. Trouble followed him down the hall before he realized Cas was going into the room where it rained inside. Trouble quickly back-tracked. He had learned long ago not to go into that room. Instead, he made his way into the room with the food and sat by his bowl, mrowing until someone got the hint to feed him.

The Grumpy One came in first, staggering over to the Very Important Machine that made the house smell good, and doing the same thing he did every morning. Trouble tried to get his attention, but the Grumpy One just ignored him and moved him out of the way with one foot as he moved around the room.

The Tall One came in next, and Trouble called out again.

This time he was acknowledged. The Tall One pulled his food from the cupboard and poured some into his bowl before giving trouble a pet. Trouble purred at him. He had always liked the Tall One better when it came to Cas' littermates. At least he didn't just complain about Trouble all the time.

"So, what do we have today?" the Grumpy One asked as he poured a cup of the nice smelling drink (which sometimes Trouble tasted when he wasn't looking) and sat down at the table across from the Tall One.

"Well, last night I was looking trough some news reports and came across one that might be a werewolf—or a rugaru," The Tall One said. "The news article is a little sketchy on details so I don't know whether the hearts were eaten or not. Either way, something is attacking and mauling people and as is usually the case, I doubt it's a wild animal."

The Grumpy One nodded. "Well, good. I could use a hunt. Morning, Cas."

Trouble's Human came into the room and greeted them. Trouble looked up from his food long enough to rub against Cas' leg as His Human found food for himself. Cas reached down and petted him before he went to join the others at the table.

"Did you find a hunt, Sam?" Cas asked as he poured human food into a bowl.

"I think so. It's only a couple hours away, so I figured we should check it out."

"We'll leave after breakfast," the Grumpy One said.

Trouble finished his food. He knew what it meant when Cas and his littermates left. That meant he had his house to himself. While he didn't like it when Cas was gone for a long time—especially when he left him with only the Grumpy One for company—he enjoyed having the run of his house as well.

There was a bit of commotion as they packed things in bags to leave. Trouble tried to sit in Cas' bag so he wouldn't leave so soon, but Cas gently pulled him out and set him back on the floor.

"Not this time, Trouble. Let me go get you some more food."

Trouble followed His Human to the food room again, and watched as Cas filled his bowl up to the brim and refilled the bottle attached to his water bowl so he wouldn't run out.

"Now this is enough food for a couple days, don't eat it all at once," Cas told him.

Trouble licked his paw. Obviously, he wouldn't eat it all at once. Sometimes His Human was silly.

He danced under the Grumpy One's feet as they started to head to the door.

"Scram, cat," the Grumpy One said and Trouble took one last swipe at his shoelaces before he darted away. He watched them leave from one of his observation points on the bookshelf, tail flicking back and forth, and then he had his house to himself.

Trouble spent a very nice time chasing moths through the halls, taking naps whenever he wanted, and rounding dust bunnies from under the shelves in the library. Sometimes when he was feeling particularly naughty he would pee in the Grumpy One's room instead of his litter box, but this time, he couldn't be bothered, so he simply curled up in the library chair and took a nice long nap.

When Cas and his littermates returned, Trouble went to meet them, but instantly saw something amiss. Cas was being carried through the door by his littermates, and no matter how many times Trouble called out to him he didn't answer. His Human smelled wrong too, like pain and bad, sharp things that meant danger and fright to Trouble. He hissed and darted under the table as he watched the other two humans carrying Cas.

"Cas, stay with me man," the Grumpy One was saying, his voice sounding strange to Trouble, less grumpy. "Dammit, Sam, he's still bleeding like a stuck pig."

"I know," the Tall One grunted. He had one hand pressed firmly to Cas' belly, which was where the bad blood smell was coming from. Trouble followed them to the room he and Cas slept in, and watched as they lifted Cas onto the bed. Trouble's Human was limp and the bad kind of asleep. Trouble mrowed in distress, as he watched Cas' littermates pull his clothes off and uncover a wound. Trouble hissed as the smell intensified. It looked like his Cas had gotten into a fight without him there to protect him. Trouble was not happy at all. He leapt onto the bed to go to the aid of His Human.

"Trouble, no, down!" the Tall One commanded. He had Cas' blood smell all over him too. Trouble ignored him and went to his usual spot by Cas' shoulder, curling up and licking His Human's bare skin to comfort him.

"Sam, get the damn cat out of here," the Grumpy One said.

The Tall One sighed and before Trouble knew what was happening, he was picked up and carried to the door. He tried to scratch at the Tall One but he simply set him down in the hallway and closed the door. Trouble yowled, scratching at the door. How dare they think they could take him away from His Human when Cas needed him most? He could still hear them on the other side of the door though.

"He got clawed up really bad," the Tall One said, worry tingeing his voice.

"I can't believe that rugaru just came out of no where like that," the Grumpy One added. Then Trouble heard Cas whimper and moan and he renewed his efforts to get inside the room.

"Cas?" the Grumpy One called. "Hey, you stay with us, you hear? Dammit! Sam, we need sutures now, I'll keep pressure on this."

Trouble heard footsteps come to the door and darted in past the Tall One's feet without his notice as he opened the door. The Grumpy One was bent over Cas, pressing a cloth to his belly before he turned to get something off the side table. Trouble took his chance to jump up next to His Human again. Cas smelled like pain and blood and it burned Trouble's nose, but he wasn't going to leave now. He curled up next to Cas' shoulder again and when the Grumpy One turned around his eyes narrowed.

"Dammit, Trouble," he muttered and reached for him but Trouble hissed and slashed his hand with his claws. The Grumpy One jerked back.

"Ow! Fine, stay there, then," he growled.

The Tall One came back too. "Just leave him, Dean, it's easier than having to listen to him whine on the other side of the door."

Okay, Trouble didn't whine—that was for dogs—but he smugly curled up next to His Human, having won that argument.

They started to clean Cas' wound, and Trouble's Human smelled even more like pain. He moaned and twitched, and Trouble licked him to keep him calm. He watched the other humans with scrutiny. They were stupid, didn't they know they were supposed to lick wounds? No wonder they were just hurting Cas more.

"Did you sterilize the sutures?" the Grumpy One asked.

"Whisky," the Tall One said, and handed over a bottle of bad smelling stuff to the Grumpy One. Trouble made a noise of disgust as the bottle was opened, the sharp smell offending him. They poured it onto a cloth and the Tall One pressed it to Cas' wounds.

Trouble almost jumped when Cas jerked with a yelp but the Grumpy One pressed Cas down.

"Easy, easy," he said, squeezing Cas' shoulder. Trouble purposefully went back to licking His Human behind the ear. The Grumpy One didn't know how to make him feel better like he did.

"Alright, we're ready," the Tall One said.

Trouble watched angrily as they put sharp things into His Human, and made black lines across the wounds. He would have stopped them, but Cas didn't smell so much like blood after that. Still, Trouble thought that his littermates should know more about caring for wounds.

It was a long time before they stopped, but finally the Tall One stepped back wearily. "I'm going to get cleaned up and grab some fresh bandages."

"Thanks," the Grumpy One said as he turned back to the healing stuff.

Trouble felt Cas trembling in pain, tense and he could smell His Human's distress. He decided to help, and left his favored spot to bend over the wounds. He started to lick them like you were supposed to, and felt Cas relax slightly. See? It did work.

"What the…Dammit, Trouble!" He was snagged and lifted away from Cas by the Grumpy One. Trouble yowled and scratched at him.

"What's wrong?" the Tall One asked, returning.

"He was…licking Cas!" Dean said, disgust in his voice. "His wounds."

The Tall One just shrugged. "He was probably just trying to help. Animals do lick injuries."

"And cats will eat you if you die around them," the Grumpy One said which made Trouble protest more. Eat his Cas? Was this stupid human insane?

"Just put him outside while we finish," the Tall One said.

Trouble was once again shoved out the door and yowled angrily at the Grumpy One, calling him insulting names, despite the fact the human wouldn't understand him.

It seemed like a long time before the door opened again and Trouble darted back inside to resume his rightful place at Cas' shoulder. At least they had covered him with blankets so he was warm. Trouble burrowed into them, and licked Cas' shoulder again. The Grumpy One glared at him, but Trouble ignored him. Let him try to take him away again. Trouble wished he had peed in the Grumpy One's room after all. Maybe he still would. In his bed.

Cas shifted and moaned and the Grumpy One's face softened as he put a hand to Cas' forehead. The frown retuned.

"How is he doing?" the Tall One asked, coming back in, smelling less like blood.

"He's getting fevered," the Grumpy One replied. "We're gonna have to keep an eye on him through the night. If that wound gets infected, we might have to take him to the hospital."

The Tall One nodded and dragged a chair over to the bed. "Why don't you get cleaned up? I'll take first watch."

That night, Trouble stayed with Cas as his littermates traded out several times to sit in the chair. Cas got very hot and sweaty, moaning and tossing in discomfort. The two humans washed him with cloths but it didn't seem to do much good.

Finally, Trouble started licking Cas' face, around his hairline. His skin was hot and saltier than usual, but the motion seemed to calm His Human down, so he didn't stop. The Tall One watched curiously then reached out and petted Trouble behind the ears.

"You're taking good care of him, aren't you?" he asked.

Trouble mrowed. Obviously. That was his job.

He didn't stop his ministrations, until he felt a change in Cas. He was less hot, and seemed more relaxed. Even then, Trouble kept licking His Human soothingly until his eyelids fluttered and opened. Trouble mrowed in hope that he was waking up.

Cas moaned, and the Grumpy One, who was sitting in the chair at that moment, leaned over him eagerly. "Cas? Hey, you awake, buddy?"

"I…what happened?" Trouble's Human asked.

"You got tagged by that rugaru," the Grumpy One said. "Got you pretty good. How do you feel?"

"Sore…" Cas said. Trouble licked him again and his eye scrunched up as he turned his head. "Hey, Trouble."

Trouble purred in greeting and rubbed his head against His Human's hair. The Grumpy One snorted. "Couldn't get the cat to leave you. He spit all over your face."

"That's how they care for their own, Dean," Cas said. Trouble purred harder. He knew His Human would understand.

The Grumpy One rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm just glad you're awake. You scared us for a while."

"I'll be okay," Cas assured him, and untangled one hand from the blankets to stroke Trouble with. Trouble licked his hand in return and curled up against His Human's side. Cas smiled. "Thank you, Trouble."

Trouble mrowed and purred some more as he felt His Human drift off to sleep. He was exhausted himself, and now that he knew Cas was going to be okay, he figured it was high time he deserved a catnap. He heard Cas' breathing even out into sleep, and was surprised to feel a short pet to his head.

"Good cat," the Grumpy One said reluctantly.

Trouble half opened his eyes to look at him and the Grumpy One narrowed his eyes to the same slits before shaking his head. Trouble, pleased, pressed his head under his Cas' chin and slipped off to sleep himself.

 


	24. Cas the Citizen Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is set during Season 9

Castiel was beginning to regret staying at the library so late, but…he did enjoy reading, a habit he had formed recently after being laid up from injuries he had gotten on a hunt. It seemed his human healing process wasn't entirely horrible after all. Despite hating being laid up in general, he did enjoy getting a little downtime, and having the opportunity to relax and spend hours reading. It kept him from going too stir-crazy.

He had gone to the library to do a little research in the archives for a hunt Sam had been checking out, and while he was there, he had decided to browse the fiction section. And there he had found so many books that he had wanted to try, that he had simply sat down in the aisle with a stack of them, and before he knew it, he had spent several hours just sitting there, browsing and reading, and the library was about to close.

He swiftly gathered his stack of books and went to check them out with his own library card that he had gotten last month. It felt nice to have something of his own, even more than the credit card and fake IDs Sam had made him since this was actually his and said "Cas Winchester" on it. He really enjoyed riding his bicycle into town and stopping by the library while running errands. It was human, and normal, and it was very pleasant. It made him realize that not everything about his new mortal state was terrible, that some things about humanity were in fact very nice. Besides, it was teaching him more about human mannerisms and how to react to various situations, which, to be honest, he still needed a bit of practice with.

"Have a good night," the motherly librarian, who's name was Martha, told him with a smile as she handed him back his library card. "Come back, soon, Cas. And let me know what you think of The Princess Bride. That's one of my favorites."

"I will. I hope you have a good night too, Martha," Cas said and gathered his stack of books carefully before heading toward the door.

As he went to his bike, chained up to the bike rack, he wondered if maybe he shouldn't have gotten quite so many books. They barely fit in his bike basket.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket as he was unlocking his bicycle. He pulled it out and saw a text from Dean.

Dude, where are you?

Castiel quickly typed a reply. Just leaving the library. I got distracted.

He could practically hear Dean's snort, accompanied by an eyeroll, as another message popped up. Okay, geekboy 2. Since you're still out, why don't you pick up a pizza for dinner?

Cas shook his head with a sigh, but his stomach rumbled hungrily and he did quite like pizza. He just hoped he could fit it in his bike basket. Sure. I'll be back soon, he replied.

He put his phone back in his pocket and got on his bike, making his way back through town to the pizza place they usually went to.

He ordered a large supreme pizza since it had meat and vegetables on it, which Cas figured should make both Sam and Dean happy—he personally liked any pizza, except the one with pineapple on it. He didn't understand why anyone would want to put pineapple on pizza. It was not a very enjoyable combination.

By the time the pizza was ready, it was already dark out and Cas wasn't much looking forward to riding his bike down the highway in the dark. He thought he might take the bus home instead, then he would make sure there wouldn't be an accident with the pizza if he hit a rock or pothole. It would be faster too, and the pizza wouldn't get cold.

He made his way through a back street, walking his bike and steadying the pizza box across the handlebars. The bus stop wasn't far and Cas was hoping he hadn't missed the last bus, not knowing how late they ran.

But he never got to the bus stop because a sound caught his attention and he looked around the find the source of it.

"Please, just leave me alone," someone, a woman, was saying. "I don't have anything you want."

"Well, sweetheart, you'll do fine just on your own."

Castiel bristled, turning toward the voices and seeing three shadowy figures huddled close at the far end of an alley—two men crowding into a woman who obviously didn't want anything to do with them. He could hear the danger of the situation, and the fear in the woman's voice, the taunting of the two men, and it made him angry. His current stint as a human had taught him just how vulnerable it made you, and how helpless you could be, especially out on the streets at night, and he had warrior training, which this woman probably hadn't.

"Please, just go!" the woman pleaded and started to run.

Cas quickly propped his bike against the alley wall, just as he heard a scream. He turned to see that the men had caught up with the woman and had grabbed her from behind, spinning her around and slamming her face-first against the wall of the alley. She collapsed with a whimper as the two men loomed over her, laughing. Castiel's rage boiled inside of him as he strode purposefully toward them.

"Come on, Jake, get her up," one of the men said and the second one reached down for the woman again, but by that time, Castiel was right behind him.

"Leave her alone," he said firmly, his voice low and dangerous.

The two men spun around, faces halfway between annoyed and amused. "Well, would you look at that, Danny, this skinny little prick thinks he's tough."

His companion chuckled in a mean way. "Beat it, buddy, if you know what's good for you."

"I'm not leaving until you leave that woman alone," Cas said again.

"Oh yeah, tough guy?" Jake raised an eyebrow, and shoved Cas hard in the chest, causing him to stagger back a couple steps. "Well, you're just gonna have to wait your turn. We'll deal with you in a minute."

"Unless you want a turn with her yourself," Danny leered.

That was all Castiel was going to take of that. He snarled and swung his fist at Danny before the man knew what hit him. It collided with his jaw and whipped him around to stumbled against a dumpster. Jake turned to Cas with a shocked expression on his face, but made a half-hearted fist. Cas didn't give it the chance to land though, he kicked out the man's knee, and as he dropped with a howl, Cas grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his own knee into the man's face, hard enough to feel his nose crack.

Jake was down, but Danny was on his feet again, and angry. He launched himself at Cas and landed one punch to his jaw that made his ears ring, and another to his stomach, but by then, Cas was under his defenses, and hammered his fist into the man's solar plexus, forcing the air from his lungs. While Danny was wheezing, Cas stepped back and delivered another kick to the center of his chest which sent him tumbling backwards to hit his head on the edge of the dumpster, collapsing on the ground, unconscious.

Castiel went over to Jake who was still writhing on the ground, one hand clutching his nose, the other his knee. Cas kicked him onto his back, reluctant to admit just how much he enjoyed seeing the man's fearful eyes stare up at him. This man enjoyed making people frightened but he was really a coward, and he deserved to feel the same.

"I would suggest you never try something like that again. Because if you do, I will find you," he said, leaving the outcome open, and kicked the man in the jaw, knocking him unconscious like his companion.

He then turned toward the woman, petite with honey blond hair, who was still huddled against the wall, her eyes wide with shock. Cas felt a sudden wave of guilt. Perhaps she was afraid of him now, thinking that he would hurt her like Jake and Danny had been planning. He remembered to smile, even though one side of his face was slightly swollen from the blow he had taken, and held his hands out as he went over to crouch beside her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and slowly reached out to touch a bloody spot right below her hairline where she had hit the wall.

Tears were streaming down her face, but she nodded jerkily. "I—I think so."

"Can you stand?" Cas asked, and reached out to grab her arms as she tried to rise, steadying her until she got her footing. She was trembling violently, but he knew that was probably just from the fright she had taken.

"Th-thank you," he said. "I—I didn't know what to do, I was so scared…"

"It's okay, I'm just glad I was passing by," Cas told her sincerely. "My name is Cas."

She gave him a wavering smile. "I'm, um, Beth."

He smiled back at her. "It's good to meet you, Beth, though I wish it could have been under different circumstances."

"Yeah," she breathed. "But…seriously, thank you."

Cas looked around. "We should leave. Where were you headed?" He reached down for the bag she had dropped and returned it to her.

"Oh, just home from work," she said, reaching up to wipe her eyes, as she clutched her bag to her chest.

"Do you always go through back alleys?" Cas asked her.

"Sometimes, when I'm tired and just want to get there quicker," she admitted.

"Well, I would suggest not doing that anymore," Cas told her firmly. "There are a lot of people who are not very nice. I know." He thought back to the time he had been on his way to Sam and Dean, cold and lost, and human. Finding food and safe places to sleep had been hard. Especially when he didn't know what to do. He was so glad he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

Beth nodded. "Yeah, I probably shouldn't."

Cas retrieved his bike, thinking that bus or not, there was no way he would get the pizza back to the bunker still warm. But there was always the oven, and he didn't think Sam and Dean would blame him when they heard what had happened.

He turned back to Beth who was standing awkwardly by, touching her head gingerly. "How about I walk you home?" Cas offered.

"Oh, you don't have to…"

"I insist," Cas told her with a smile. "I didn't just save you to let you walk into more trouble."

She laughed slightly, but nodded, before wincing at the movement. "Okay then. I guess I can't argue with that."

He walked along with her toward a more populated sidewalk with lights and restaurants lining the street. "How is your head?" he asked her. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

"It's not so bad. I can see straight. I've hit my head worse in High School gym class."

"Do you live with anyone?" Cas asked, worried about the possibility of concussion even though Beth was walking straight and didn't seem confused.

"Just my cat," she said with a self-conscious smile. "Beatrice. What about you?"

"I share a…place with a couple of my friends," Cas told her, hoping she wouldn't ask where. Explaining the bunker would be rather difficult. "I have a cat too. His name is Trouble."

Beth laughed. "I assume he's a handful then?"

"He can be," Cas admitted fondly and then realized this conversation was so normal and human it almost felt unreal to him. He was surprised at how easy Beth was to talk to, and she had just been through a trauma.

"So, Cas," Beth said after a couple moments of silence. "Are you, like, a black belt or something? Because, no offense, but you're kind of…wiry…to take down two big guys."

Cas shrugged, feeling slightly self-conscious. "I have had some training." Was all he said. He hoped again that she wouldn't ask for more details as it would be hard to explain that he was an ex-angel turned hunter.

"Okay, so kind of a mystery man," Beth said, glancing sideways at him. "Well, either way, I am really glad you showed up. And I promise not to walk around dark alleys alone anymore."

"Good," Cas said with a smile in her direction.

"Well, this is my place," Beth told him, pointing to the next house on the left. They stopped and stood awkwardly for a few seconds before she blurted out. "Thanks again." Then she surprised Cas by throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly.

He wasn't really sure what to reply to that, and was even more surprised as she pulled back and kissed his lightly on the cheek, before retreating several steps. Cas felt his face flush, but he couldn't help a smile either.

"My hero," Beth said softly with a shy smile. "Hey, um, I see you've got a pile of books there. I work at the bookstore in town. Feel free to stop by anytime and say hi."

Cas smiled at her. "I would like that."

"Okay, well, you've probably got places to be when you're not rescuing damsels in distress, so, I guess I'll say goodnight," she told him.

"Goodnight," Cas replied and watched as she made it to her door before he turned around to head back down the street toward the bus stop.

He was just lucky enough to catch the last bus for the night. And while he was sitting on the bus, he checked his phone again, seeing the anticipated texts from Dean.

Dude, where's the food? You should take the bus!

Cas replied. On my way now. Got delayed. Tell you when I get there.

He got off on the last bus stop before the bunker and retrieved his bicycle to ride the last stretch. By the time he got there, he was starving.

He came in with his giant stack of books and the pizza, and was met by Sam and Dean as he came down the stairs.

"Cas, what took you…dude is that a black eye?" Dean demanded as Sam took the stuff from Cas. The elder Winchester looked the ex-angel up and down. "And blood on your pants?"

Cas looked down at the blood on his knee from when he had broken Jake's nose. "Yes, there was a bit of trouble."

"What was it? Demons, angels?" Dean demanded, looking like he was going to run out and fight something right then.

"Just humans," Cas told him and Sam reassuringly. "They were bothering a young woman. I took care of them."

"You killed them?" Sam asked, eyes widening.

Cas shook his head. "No, though I hope they will not try to do what they did again."

"You're okay, though?" Dean asked worriedly, always the mother hen. "And the girl?"

"Only a few bruises," Cas told him truthfully then smiled slightly. "You should see the other guys."

Sam chuckled. "Okay, well, you can go change while we heat the pizza back up."

Cas nodded and when he came back out to the table, the three of them sat down to their dinner as Dean distributed beers.

"Look at you, rescuing damsels in distress," Dean said with a teasing smile, but Cas could detect some pride in his voice. "So, did you get her number?"

Cas gave him a longsuffering look. "No, Dean. But she did invite me to visit the bookstore she works at. I'm just glad I was there at the right time."

"Yeah, definitely, Cas," Sam said with a smile. "I'm sure she is too."

"So was she cute?" Dean persisted.

"Dean," Sam sighed.

Cas chewed his pizza and met Dean's eyes. "I did think she was attractive."

Dean laughed and Sam shook his head, but smiled all the same.

They ate their pizza, bantering companionably.

That night, Cas thought about Beth and those men. He hated the fact that there were people in this world who would always try to take advantage of those weaker than they were, but he also knew that was never going to change. And because of that, he knew how important it was to be on the side of good, and be to one of the people who watch over the ones who can't always watch after themselves. He realized perhaps for the first time that even as a human, he could do that, along with Sam and Dean. Because despite all the world changing stuff they had done, averting apocalypses and other disasters, at the end of the day, they would always be there to save people like Beth, because that was their true job.

Because Cas may not be an angel any longer, but that didn't mean he had to stop being a guardian either.

He slept peacefully that night, comforted by the fact that even if he didn't have his grace any longer, he could still make a difference in this world, and that was all that really mattered.


	25. Cas Goes to the Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during Season 9

Dean woke to the sound of someone throwing up violently—he knew that sound all too well. He was out of bed in a second, and opening his door to peek down the hall, wondering who the victim was this time.

He almost tripped over Trouble who had obviously come to investigate as well, and Sam's door opened, showing his mussed head. Cas then.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked sleepily.

Dean shoved the cat out of the way as Trouble clawed at the hem of his sleep pants, and continued down the hall toward the slightly open bathroom door.

"Cas?" he knocked on the doorjamb before pushing into the room, seeing his friend kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, one arm bracing himself against the seat, which he was resting his forehead against, and his other arm wrapped protectively around his stomach. Dean winced in sympathy as he crouched down beside the ex-angel. This wasn't the first time Cas had thrown up since he'd become human, but it still looked like he was taking it pretty hard.

"Hey, buddy, what's going on?" Dean asked quietly.

Cas groaned and tilted his head to look at Dean. "I don't feel very good," he said simply.

"Yeah, I can tell," Dean said with a snort and looked up at Sam as the younger Winchester leaned against the door, a sympathetic look on his face. "When did you start feeling bad?"

"Mmm," Cas closed his eyes, leaning away from the toilet slightly. "Kind of started yesterday. My stomach didn't feel so good then, but it's gotten worse."

Dean frowned, thinking back. Truthfully, now that he thought about it, Cas had kind of looked out of it the last couple of days, and hadn't been eating very much. They didn't always eat together, but last night he remembered the ex-angel only picking at his food, and looking overly tired. They had been on a couple grueling hunts lately, so Dean had put it down to that, but maybe Cas had been coming down with something instead.

He was startled from his musings as Cas made a sick sound and hurriedly leaned over the toilet again, retching. Dean reached out a hand to steady him, feeling that Cas was trembling, and had sweat soaking through his t-shirt.

Sam came into the room and grabbed a washcloth, wetting it before he handed it to Dean and filled a cup of water from the sink, crouching down on Cas' other side.

"Here," Sam said as soon as Cas had finished emptying his stomach again, and pressed the cup to Cas' lips. "Rinse your mouth."

Cas did, spitting into the toilet with a disgusted face before Dean wiped his face with the cloth. Cas grunted.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's time to get up anyway," Dean told him, patting his shoulder. "Besides, it's not your fault you're sick. Now, you finished here?"

"I hope so," Cas replied wryly. "Vomiting may be my least favorite part of being human."

Sam chuckled and helped Dean get him back to his feet before flushing the toilet. "Well, you should get back to bed and try to sleep it off. Hopefully it's not too bad of a bug."

"Thank you," Cas told them, and allowed Dean to guide him back to his room with a hand on his elbow.

"Okay," Dean said as he sat Cas on his bed, and went to rummage through his dresser drawers. He grabbed a clean t-shirt and handed it to Cas. "You'll be more comfortable if you take the sweaty one off. I'm gonna go grab you some stuff, okay?"

Cas nodded and took the shirt as Dean left the room to find some things to make Cas more comfortable. He really hoped this wasn't the flu. Maybe they would get lucky and Cas would have only caught a twenty-four hour thing that he and Sam wouldn't have time to catch too. But he knew that was probably just wishful thinking at the moment.

He grabbed a glass of water, some Pepto, and a bucket in case Cas wasn't done with the vomiting. He thought he or Sam should make a run later to grab some saltines and ginger ale, but that could wait until he was sure Cas could keep anything down.

He came back to see Cas had changed into the fresh t-shirt and had his blanket wrapped around him, Trouble curled up against his hip. The poor guy looked terrible, but Dean knew that sleep would be the best thing for him right now.

"Okay," he said, putting the bucket on the floor by Cas' head and opening the bottle of Pepto. "Time to dose you up."

He handed the small cup of thick pink liquid to Cas and the ex-angel took it with a disgusted look.

"How is this going to help?" he asked.

"Just drink it," Dean commanded. "Down the hatch."

Cas gave him a baleful look but tossed it back like a trooper, though looked like he was having a bit of a hard time getting it down. Dean quickly handed him the water and Cas gulped it before he could warn him not too.

"Woah, easy, that will just make you throw up again," Dean said and quickly took the water back.

Cas grunted and slumped back against the pillows. He winced at the movement and pressed a hand to his stomach. Dean frowned. "You okay?"

Cas shrugged miserably. "My stomach hurts."

"Well, you did just heave your guts up," Dean said and reached out to pull the blanket further over Cas' shoulders. "Just try to get some rest. Hopefully you'll be able to sleep it off. If you don't throw up again, I'll bring you something to eat later."

Cas didn't look enthused about that at all, and Dean smirked, patting his knee. "Just call me or Sam if you need anything. I'll leave your door open."

"Thanks," Cas murmured but his eyes were already closing, one hand settling on Trouble's back as the cat snuggled against him.

Dean shook his head and headed out of the room to go get dressed. He would make a supply run now, so that they could have everything they needed for Cas when he was ready.

That was day one.

Cas only seemed to get worse the next day. He got a low-grade fever, couldn't keep much of anything down, and nothing Dean gave him seemed to settle his stomach. At least he could keep liquids down for the most part so he wasn't getting dehydrated, but Dean and Sam were both worried about the fact that this thing hadn't burned itself out by now like a typical flu would have, and it had been three long days, going on four, and Cas still hadn't made any improvements. In fact, if anything, he'd only seemed to get worse.

That and this bug, whatever it was, didn't seem to act like a regular flu. Cas didn't have packed sinuses or a cough, and the fever and vomiting were the only things that told of sickness at all. He also complained of stomach pains a lot. Dean would have thought it was just a bout of food poisoning, but it had lasted way too long and he hadn't thrown up nearly enough for that to be the case.

The morning of the fourth day, Cas complained about wanting a shower. The ex-angel didn't like to be covered in sweat and he kinda did stink, so Dean decided to oblige him and started to pull Cas out of bed since he was pretty unsteady and weak. It would probably make him feel better to wash the sweat off.

He was not ready for Cas to simply collapse with a surprised yelp as soon as he got him on his feet, though.

Dean just barely took his weight before he hit the floor.

"Dammit," he snapped, gripping his friend's arms and lowering him the rest of the way to the floor, crouching down beside him. "You okay? What's wrong?"

Cas was curled around his middle, eyes squeezed shut and sweat pouring down his face. Dean gripped the back of his neck. "Hey, Cas. Talk to me, man, what's going on?"

Cas groaned, the sound swiftly turning into a whimper. "My stomach hurts."

Dean almost let out an exasperated sigh. Cas had been saying that for days, but now…he looked like he was really in pain.

"Hey, what happened?"

Dean looked up to see Sam hovering in the doorway, concern on his face.

"Cas says his stomach hurts again," Dean said helplessly.

Sam frowned and came over to crouch next to Dean. "Cas, has it gotten worse?"

Cas took a couple deep breaths and finally opened his eyes with a slight nod. "It's really bad now."

Sam glanced at Dean, worry creasing his brow and Dean frowned back. "Let's get him back on the bed," Sam suggested.

"I want a shower," Cas protested with a groan and Sam and Dean stood and each took an arm, slowly starting to ease him back up.

"We'll get you a shower in a minute," Dean promised him, looking at Sam expectantly. "Well?"

Sam turned to Cas as they helped him recline against the pillows again. Cas breathed a slight sigh of relief as he lay down and Dean hated seeing the pain lines carved into his face.

Sam sat on the side of the bed and put a gentle hand on Cas' shoulder. "Cas, what exactly does the pain feel like?"

Cas' face scrunched up. "Hm, it's painful, does it matter? I'm not familiar with every type of human pain, Sam, it was different as an angel. Everything seems to hurt worse now, it's hard to distinguish."

Dean felt a pang at his frustration. He hated that Cas had to go through all the crap humanity had to offer as well as the good.

"Okay, well, do you mind if I take a look?" Sam asked gently.

"I'm not injured," Cas grunted.

"I know, just humor me," Sam said and carefully pulled Cas' t-shirt up several inches and touched Cas' stomach searchingly. "Does it hurt anywhere in particular?"

Cas frowned but motioned to his right side. "I…guess it hurts more there."

Sam pressed his lips together and reached out to prod the spot Cas had indicated just to the right of his belly button, and the guttural reaction he got told Dean everything they needed to know.

Cas cried out and curled onto his side, knees drawn up protectively. Dean reached out to steady him as Sam apologized and rubbed Cas' back soothingly.

"Sorry, Cas," Sam told him softly.

"What's wrong with me?" Cas groaned.

"With the symptoms, it looks like it might be appendicitis," Sam said, sharing a look with Dean who had to nod in agreement. He'd kind of started to wonder.

"Yeah, looks like it, but we'll have to take you to an actual doctor to be sure," Dean offered.

"We should go to the ER now," Sam said, worry clouding his brow. "Cas has already been bad off for days, it needs to come out."

"What?" Cas demanded, glancing up at them. "Can't you fix it here?"

Dean let out a wry chuckle. "Dude, I'm not gonna perform kitchen table surgery when we actually don't have a reason to. This is a perfectly normal thing to have happen. People get their appendixes out all the time."

Cas didn't look convinced, but he also seemed in too much pain to care.

"Help him get into some clean clothes," Dean told Sam. "I'll put some pillows and stuff in Baby to make him more comfortable."

Dean quickly grabbed some fresh pillows and a blanket from the closet and went to situate them in the backseat of the Impala. He also grabbed a bucket just in case Cas felt the need to throw up. He may love Cas like a second brother but that didn't mean he wanted either him, or Sam for that matter, to puke in poor Baby.

He went back to find that Sam had helped Cas into a clean pair of sweat pants and a hooded sweatshirt. Cas was still shivering and hunched over as he perched on the side of the bed while Sam tied his shoes for him since he couldn't bend over.

After that, Dean and Sam both helped him to his feet, and Dean didn't miss Cas gritting his teeth against the obvious pain. Part of him wanted to chew his friend out for not mentioning how bad it was earlier, but at the same time, he did sort of understand what Cas was going through. It couldn't be easy to suddenly be human and then get something as painful as appendicitis.

Trouble tried to follow them out to the Impala, but Sam shoed him back inside as Cas said, "It's okay, Trouble. I'll be back soon."

Dean shook his head at the cat and the ex-angel before he opened the back seat of the Impala so they could get Cas inside.

Sam helped Cas lay down before Dean tucked a blanket around him and then got into the driver's seat. Cas groaned miserably and curled around himself as they started off.

Sam cast him a sympathetic look. "It's not too far, Cas. Hopefully we won't have to wait a long time in the emergency room."

Dean pressed down on the gas a little more as they got out onto the highway, making it into town in record time. He pulled right up to the ER doors and Sam nudged him in the shoulder.

"I'll park the car, you get Cas inside."

Dean nodded and let Sam slide into the driver's seat as he got out and pulled open the back door to reach inside for Cas. The ex-angel propped himself up as much as he could manage but Dean still had to practically haul him out of the car since every move Cas made was obviously making his stomach ache. He finally got him upright though and wrapped an arm securely around his waist to make sure he didn't collapse. Cas gripped Dean's coat with one hand, his other arm still wrapped protectively around his middle. Dean bit his lip, again cursing himself for not thinking about the possibility sooner that Cas hadn't just caught a bug.

It seemed like forever before they got into the ER waiting room and Dean deposited Cas into one of the chairs before he went to the desk to check him in.

"Just hold on. Hopefully they'll be able to get you in soon," he said, though looked around with some chagrin at the other people waiting there. A few with broken bones and such—they could wait, their injuries weren't life threatening. Cas was the one who needed attention sooner rather than later.

Cas grunted and slumped gratefully into the chair. Dean went to the receptionist and grabbed the inevitable paperwork, but at least got the woman's assurance that they would get a doctor to see Cas as soon as possible after Dean had explained his condition and the woman glanced over at Cas, seeing for herself how bad he looked.

When he turned back around, Sam had gotten inside, and was sitting next to Cas, rubbing a soothing hand over his back as the ex-angel listed slightly against the younger Winchester. Dean bit his lip, knowing that Cas must really be hurting if he was being more clingy than bitchy like he and Sam both usually were when they were injured or sick. He'd never actually seen Cas like this before. Usually, he was as bad about admitting he was hurt as Sam and Dean were.

He sat down on Cas' other side and patted his knee comfortingly. "She said they'll try to get you in as soon as possible, so just hang in there a little longer buddy."

Cas was silent for a moment, and then spoke for the first time since the car ride. "They're going to cut me open, aren't they?"

Dean shared a look with Sam over Cas' head and was thankful when his younger brother took up the task of answering. "There's nothing to worry about, Cas. It's a relatively easy surgery; like we said before, lots of people have to have their appendixes out. And we'll be here when you wake up."

Cas shuddered and curled in on himself even more. "I know, I just…I don't like the thought…I don't like people…"

He trailed off, and Dean, with a sick feeling of realization in his stomach, thought he understood Cas' reluctance, and he couldn't say he really blamed him either after everything his own angelic brethren had done to him. Dean shook his head slightly, jaw clenched, once again wishing he had that bitch Naomi in a locked room with an angel blade. Leave it to Cas to be able to defiantly stand up to torture and certain death, but wig out when it came to a routine surgery.

He reached out and gripped Cas' shoulder. "Hey, you don't need to worry. The doctors are here to help you, not hurt you." At least he hoped there were no monsters running around this hospital. He swiftly pushed that thought from his head. "And like Sam said, we're gonna be right here waiting for you."

Cas seemed to relax marginally, and Dean squeezed the back of his neck briefly before a nurse came over and told them she would lead them to a room to wait for the doctor.

Sam nodded to Dean after they both helped Cas to his feet. "You go with him. Those rooms are too small for all of us. I'll go grab some coffee."

Dean nodded and supported Cas again, helping him down the hall.

"The doctor will be with you soon," the nurse said as she showed them into the room.

Dean nudged Cas over to the exam bed. "Wanna lie down?" he asked, seeing how much Cas was struggling.

The ex-angel nodded, and Dean helped him to lie down on the bed. Cas curled up, and looked miserably at the wall in front of him. Dean shrugged his coat off, and folded it into a pillow to put under Cas' head.

"Thank you," Cas murmured.

Dean propped a hip against the bed and settled a hand on Cas' shoulder, rubbing soothingly to try and calm him, seeing that he was still pretty tense. Dean almost smiled ruefully as he remembered countless times having to wait in hospital rooms with Sam after one of them had been injured. Yeah, it was pretty bad that their lives sucked so much that a case of appendicitis was the most normal thing they'd probably ever been to the hospital for. At least they wouldn't have to lie about this one.

Thankfully the doctor came in after only a few minutes, looking over her clipboard and sharing a brief, tired smile with Dean and Cas.

"Okay, Mr. Winchester, I'm Doctor Reilly, and from the looks of it you've been feeling like crap the last couple days."

Dean smirked, liking her already, as Cas offered a small smile. "Yeah," he said.

"Well, let's check you out and see if it is appendicitis," she said and looked up at Dean. "You going to leave while I examine your brother?"

Dean saw Cas tense slightly and look up at him. Dean patted him on the shoulder again. "I'll stay if that's alright." He said it in a way that brooked little argument.

Dr. Reilly shrugged. "No problem, if it will make him more comfortable. Alright, then, Cas is it? Can you roll onto your back?"

Dean stood to one side while Dr. Reilly did her examination, having to stop himself from intervening when she caused Cas pain. But to her credit, she was quick and efficient, and came to the same diagnosis as they had.

"Yep, that's definitely appendicitis. And lucky for you I think we caught it just in time. I would highly suggest immediate surgery though. I can get you in in half an hour."

Cas looked at Dean with a flicker of fear, and the elder Winchester nodded to him encouragingly. "Cas, it has to come out."

Dr. Reilly smiled. "Don't worry, it's a quick and easy surgery, and if you do well, you should even be able to go home by tomorrow night."

"Okay," Cas said quietly, seeming resigned, and probably at this point too miserable to care about anything but having the whole thing be over.

"The nurse will be in to get you prepped soon, and I will see you again before too long," she smiled and nodded to Dean before heading out of the room.

Dean sent a quick text to Sam, telling him the news before he turned back to Cas. "Don't worry, buddy, it will be over before you know it."

Cas grunted, curled up again, his eyes closed. "I know. I want this to be over."

Dean nodded in agreement. He did too. "I know you do," he said gently. "I'm just sorry we didn't figure this out earlier."

Cas shrugged. "Not your fault. I can't tell what's wrong with my body anymore, and humans are so fragile—so many things can go wrong."

Dean smirked slightly. "Hey, we're not all so fragile, and I think you're pretty damn tough. I just wish you had told me how bad it was before it had to get worse."

Cas gave him a withering glance. "Dean, I wouldn't know the difference between a flu or cancer. It all hurts and makes you feel miserable. I haven't had as much experience as you."

"Well, I hope for your sake you never have to," Dean told him, and looked up as the nurses came in to get him ready for surgery. Dean squeezed Cas' shoulder.

"They're probably gonna ask me to leave now. But Sam and I will come see you before you go in, okay?" Dean glanced over at the nurses and they nodded to him.

Cas offered a wavering smile and Dean forced himself out of the room. Damn, he was almost more of a nervous wreck than Cas.

He went back out to the waiting room where Sam was sitting with two cups of coffee. He stood and handed one to Dean as soon as he saw him. "Well?"

"They're getting Cas prepped for surgery now," Dean said, his stomach roiling at the thought.

Sam frowned sympathetically. "He'll be okay."

"I know."

They waited for what seemed like forever before Dr. Reilly came out and smiled at them.

"Cas is ready to go in, but you can see him first," she told them.

Sam and Dean followed her gratefully back to a small room where Cas was lying on a bed, dressed in a hospital gown, and looking pale and terrible. Sam reached out and clasped his hand with a smile.

"You'll do okay, Cas. Don't worry."

"We'll be there when you wake up," Dean said, squeezing his shoulder.

"Thank you," Cas said gratefully, and the doctor nodded to them.

"Let's get that thing out," she said in a businesslike manner, turning to Sam and Dean. "I'll come get you when he's set up in a room."

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. "Thanks, doc."

He and Sam left the room reluctantly and went to the small waiting room off the surgery ward. Sam took a seat, his knee jiggling as he tried to focus on a magazine he took from a nearby table.

Dean didn't even bother trying to distract himself. He just paced, unable to sit still. Sam cast him an understanding look and didn't try to stop him.

It was a couple hours later and they still hadn't heard anything. Dean was starting to wonder if something had gone wrong, if maybe he should go back there and try to find someone. But eventually Dr. Reilly strode into the waiting room with a smile on her face.

"Your brother is out of surgery and doing well. We've got him in a room and he should be coming around soon," she said.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief and saw the anxiety wash out of Sam as well. "Thanks, doc. Can we go see him?"

"Of course," she replied. "Follow me."

She led them to a small room where they saw Cas lying, eyes closed, in the bed, hooked up to an IV and various monitors. He still looked pretty bad, but Dean knew he would be able to start recovering now. Even if it would be in human time and not angel time.

"Someone will be by to check on him in a little bit," Dr. Reilly said.

Sam and Dean nodded and pulled a couple chairs over to the bed, one on each side, and sat down.

They waited for a while in silence for Cas' eyes to flutter open. When they did, he glanced around the room and murmured groggily. "Sam, Dean?"

"Hey, buddy," Dean said, leaning over him, as Sam squeezed his wrist. Cas blinked blearily but a small smile pulled at his lips.

"s'it over?" Cas asked.

"Yeah," Sam assured him. "No more appendix."

Cas tried to shift and winced, grunting.

"Don't try to move," Dean told him. "You in pain?"

"Little," Cas admitted, looking slightly ashamed.

Sam smiled. "Don't worry, you're gonna be pretty sore for a while." He pointed to one of the monitors next to the bed. "This button is for morphine. You can press it whenever you need it, it won't let you OD." Sam touched the button and Cas looked like he relaxed a bit more after a few minutes as the morphine worked through his system.

"When can we go home?" he asked.

Dean smiled. "Probably not until tomorrow, buddy. The doctors have to make sure you're alright."

"This bed is uncomfortable," Cas complained. "And this gown is scratchy and cold. And I don't like being without underwear."

Dean smirked, sharing an amused glance with Sam, but already felt better. If Cas was being bitchy that meant he was on the road to recovery.

"I can run back to the bunker later and grab you some pajamas and boxers, okay?" he assured the ex-angel.

"Can you feed Trouble?" Cas asked.

"Yes, I'll feed the cat," Dean sighed. "You feeling okay other than being groggy and sore?"

"I'm thirsty," Cas said, sounding defeated, as his eyes closed tiredly.

Sam looked over at a table where there was a small cooler and cups. He found some ice chips and brought them over to Cas, helping him get a couple in his mouth. "Just suck on these. They'll let you drink something later."

Cas sighed and accepted the ice chips.

"I want my bed," he continued complaining. "And I still want a shower too. I smell terrible and my hair is greasy."

Dean chuckled and Sam smirked and shook his head.

"No showers for a while with those stitches," Dean told him. "But hey, if you're good, maybe a hot nurse will give you a sponge bath."

Cas gave him a longsuffering look but seemed too tired to argue. Dean reached out and pulled the blanket up around his shoulders.

"You should try and rest. You'll feel a little better once you sleep off the anesthesia."

Cas hummed tiredly, eyes sliding shut. "Thank you. For being here," he murmured.

Dean gripped the back of his neck briefly. "That's what family's for, Cas."

"Exactly," Sam added, patting his shoulder.

Cas smiled and fell back asleep. Dean was perfectly happy to sit and watch over his brother until it was time to take him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all of the stories I have so far. Feel free to shoot me a request if you have one :)


	26. Cas Is One With Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during season 9
> 
> This was a request from Mika who wanted to see the boys camping- hope you enjoy this! ^_^

"Well, here we have it, the great outdoors."

Dean looked around with a less-than-pleased expression on his face as he threw the bag that contained the brand new tent down on the ground. "Personally, I thought the beach with sun, sand, and bikini clad women would be better, but I guess I was out-voted."

"Come on, Dean, when have we ever actually gone camping—for fun?" Sam wheedled. "And Cas wanted to try it."

"Perhaps next time we can take a vacation on the beach," Castiel told Dean diplomatically as he and Sam shared a smile as the elder Winchester continued to complain.

"It'll be fun, promise," Sam assured his brother.

"And this place is beautiful, and peaceful," Castiel added.

"Right. Because I've had so many good experiences in the woods," Dean muttered. "I'm gonna be real relaxed when I try to sleep out here tonight."

"Shut up, jerk," Sam said and threw the sleeping bag he was carrying at Dean, causing him to oomph his air out as it hit him in the stomach. "It's gonna be great. But let's get the tent set up."

"Okay, bitch, but if this goes sideways, don't come crying to me."

Cas listened fondly to their bickering as he set the bags he was carrying down. He was actually very excited to go camping. They'd been putting in a lot of hours hunting lately, and Sam had suggested a weekend for them to just take some time to "chill" as Dean would say. Cas had tentatively mentioned that he had wanted to try camping and Sam had instantly been excited by the idea. Dean, not so much, but they'd still managed to talk him into it. Cas had even been able to get Beth, the girl he had saved from miscreants a couple months back, to watch Trouble, even though the cat was usually okay when they had to leave for a few days on a hunt. Now he didn't even have to worry about his cat getting into his namesake back at the bunker. He was very much looking forward to the pure relaxation that being this far away from society could bring.

"I can't believe I left my Baby down there at the trailhead," Dean grumbled. "What if someone tries to break into her, or a bear claws her up? Or some hipster douchebag runs into her with his Prius?"

"Dean, calm down," Sam reassured him. "Nothing is going to happen to the car, there's rangers in and out down there all the time to make sure stuff like that doesn't happen and to check up on anyone who's been gone for longer than anticipated. Just relax and enjoy this."

Dean muttered under his breath. "I'm not going to enjoy anything until we figure out how to get this tent set up."

They had opened the bag and were currently separating all the rods and stakes. Sam frowned too. "Yeah…it did kind of look easier in the store."

"Perhaps the instructions will help," Cas tried as he pulled out the small leaflet. But after he had finally located the portion in English, the diagrams still didn't offer anything of value. "Huh."

"Well, it can't be too hard, right?" Sam offered, beginning to snap some of the collapsible poles together.

"Why did you have to jinx it?" Dean groaned as he turned to Cas. "Help me spread this thing out and get it untangled."

There was a lot of scrabbling, arguing, and cursing that happened in the next hour while they fought to get the tent set up. Dean was even less happy when he got snapped in the face by one of the tent poles when it wouldn't go into the pocket properly, and finally took it out on hammering the stakes into the ground once the tent was finally upright.

"That was…difficult," Cas admitted.

"Difficult? Practically one of the Trials of Hercules," Dean griped as he gave the final stake one last pound and straightened up.

"Alright, well, it's done now, so let's just get our stuff in there and then we can go hiking to see what's around here," Sam said, pulling a trail map out of his jacket pocket. "There's supposed to be a stream nearby. Maybe tomorrow we can go fishing."

"Fine," Dean mumbled and they tossed their sleeping bags into the tent before zipping it up. "Now hopefully a bear or a wendigo doesn't come along to tear down our last hour of work."

Sam rolled his eyes but turned to Cas with a smile as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Come on, Cas, let's go!"

Cas picked up his bag as well and followed Sam at a brisk pace, Dean bringing up the rear half-heartedly. But as they went along, all three of them seemed to settle in and relax. It really was beautiful, early autumn was turning the leaves in the trees orange and red, and the evergreens scented the air in a fresh, cool cleanness that you could only find out in the mountains. Cas watched the birds flit through the trees and the squirrels collecting the last nuts before the winter came. Even as an angel, he had enjoyed coming out into wild places like this whenever he'd had the chance to just sit and observe nature in peace. He decided he needed to try and do this more often.

The gurgle of water could be heard now, and soon they came across the stream Sam had mentioned.

"There it is!" Sam said, pointing ahead. "See, not even that far from camp."

"It's a nice spot," Cas said appreciatively, looking around, and stepping over to the bank, crouching to peer into the water. "I think it will be a good fishing spot as well."

"Yeah, it's actually not that bad out here," Dean admitted a bit grudgingly. Cas and Sam shared a satisfied look.

They hiked a little more before heading back to their camp. It was already late afternoon (thanks to the tent set-up taking them longer than expected) and the fresh air had made them all ravenous so they decided it was time for dinner.

Once back at the camp, Sam and Cas hunted for firewood while Dean pulled out the food items they had brought and started prepping for dinner.

"There's not a lot to work with here," he grumbled. "I mean, there's only some beef jerky as far as meat goes, but I'll make corn pancakes."

"We can roast the apples too," Sam offered, taking one of the fruits and slicing it into thick slabs. "It will be good."

"Tomorrow we should be able to catch some fish," Cas assured Dean."

"Yeah, alright," the elder Winchester said.

The simple meal turned out particularly delicious in Cas' opinion, but then, everything always tasted better when you were in the mountain air.

They sat talking around the campfire until it got dark, and then Sam and Cas carefully secured the food and hung it up in a nearby tree in precaution of any wild animals as Dean shored up the fire for the night, letting the embers burn themselves out.

Then it was time to turn in, which involved a lot more shuffling around inside the tent as they spread their sleeping bags out.

"Oh, dude, you have got to leave your boots outside," Sam told Dean, making a face.

"Yeah, like you're one to talk," Dean growled. "You tracked mud all over the place. Besides, what if some animal runs off with them?"

"Trust me, they're not gonna want to get anywhere near them."

Dean grumbled, but unzipped the tent and placed his boots outside the flap. "You know they said this tent fits six people, it barely fits the three of us, how friendly do they expect you to get?"

"There's plenty of room," Cas told him as he shuffled down into his sleeping bag, using his backpack and his rolled up jacket as a pillow.

"Unless Sam gets gassy overnight." Dean unzipped his sleeping bag as he too tried to settled down. "Ow, there's something digging into my back. Did we even check for rocks and pinecones?"

"Come on, Dean, you sleep in the car all the time, this isn't that much different," Sam said.

"Hey! Do not compare Baby to this tent!" Dean protested.

"Whatever, Dean, just try to sleep," Sam said with a yawn and rolled onto his side.

Dean grumbled a little more as he got into a comfortable position, and then he too finally settled down. Cas nestled down into his sleeping bag, warm and actually surprisingly comfortable. He closed his eyes, and was lulled to sleep by the sounds of a forest at night.

~~~~~~~

The next morning, Dean made more of the corn pancakes and coffee in a percolator over the fire. After breakfast they grabbed their packs and the couple fishing poles Sam had brought along and went off toward the stream they had found the day before.

Even after all the complaining the night before, Dean seemed to be in a better mood today even though he had said something about a crick in his back. Still, their vacation seemed to be going well.

They found a good spot on the shore of the stream and set up the poles. Cas let Sam and Dean fish while he wandered around, crouching at the edge of the stream, and peering into the crystal clear water. He reached in to pick up one of the glossy, smooth stones, the water chill and crisp.

After a few more minutes, he found a large rock on the bank and sat down. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a notebook and a pencil and began to sketch the landscape.

He lost time and didn't notice Sam had wandered over to him until a shadow fell over his paper.

"Wow, you're really good, Cas," he said appreciatively, bending to look closer at his work.

Cas smiled somewhat self-consciously. "Oh, thank you. I do enjoy sketching nature."

"Hey! I got a bite!" Dean called happily as he reeled his line in.

Sam grinned. "See, I knew he'd have fun," he said quietly to the ex-angel.

Cas grinned back and flipped to a clean page as Sam went back over to his brother. Cas turned toward them and began a new sketch, adding the two hunters this time.

Five decent-sized fish later, they began to pack up and head back to camp.

"I caught more than you!" Dean taunted his brother, holding up his fish and wiggling them at Sam's face.

"Only one more," Sam protested. "It's not that much to be proud about."

"Whatever, I take my victories where I can get them, Sasquatch," Dean replied and shoved his brother in the shoulder.

Somehow, as he turned to shove Sam, his foot caught on a rock and he tripped, and then proceeded to slip down the bank. Fish went flying, and Dean yelped as he landed with a splash in the river.

"Dean, are you okay?" Cas asked as he hurried up, peering down at the waterlogged Winchester.

"Dammit," Dean muttered as he hauled himself from the water, Sam and Cas lending a hand to pull him back onto the bank. Dean shivered from the cold water, and the chilly air. "Crap."

"Alright, time to get back to camp," Sam said and picked up Dean's dropped fish and put a hand on his brother's shoulder to guide him back.

"These are my only pair of boots," Dean grumbled. "And these jeans are gonna chafe. I hate the great friggin' outdoors."

Sam cast a longsuffering look over his shoulder at Cas as the ex-angel followed, shaking his head.

By the time they got back to camp, Dean was shuddering with cold, and he angrily disappeared into the tent to strip out of his soaked clothes. Unfortunately, they had all packed light so he had the borrow Sam's extra flannel to put over his since he would be without a jacket until his dried off. Sam hung Dean's wet clothes as Cas built up the fire, stoking it to life as Dean slumped onto a stump next to it, arms wrapped around himself as he stretched out his sock-feet.

"I'm gonna catch a cold," he grunted. "If I die of pneumonia it's your fault."

"Stop bitching," Sam told him. "You're tougher than that. What kind of hunter are you?"

"The kind that hunts and doesn't spend time in the woods for fun!" Dean groused.

"Here," Cas said and offered him a cup of hot coffee that he had made in the percolator. Dean took it and sipped appreciatively.

Eventually Dean stopped shivering, and Cas went to find more firewood as Sam cleaned the fish to get them ready for dinner.

"At least we have meat for dinner," Cas offered the older hunter.

"Fish isn't meat. Fish is fish," Dean grumped. "Rather have a hamburger."

"Well, you can't hunt hamburgers out in the woods," Sam snarked and Dean glared at him.

Cas and Sam at least enjoyed cooking the fish over the fire, and Cas enjoyed it even more when he got to taste it. He didn't think he'd eaten anything quite so good yet as a human—even peanut butter and jelly. He wondered why things just tasted better cooked over an open fire.

Even Dean seemed appeased by the meal. "Alright, so I guess it's not totally terrible," he muttered grudgingly.

Sam smirked at him across the fire as he put another slab of fish on Dean's plate. "Told you."

Unfortunately, even if he didn't exactly catch pneumonia, Dean did develop a sniffle as the temperature dropped and he was sniffing all night long, sneezing too. And after Sam insisted he go to bed, he fell asleep, only to snore—very loudly.

Sam and Cas, who had stayed up a bit to let the fire go down looked at each other with a weary expression. It was going to be a long night.

When they did finally get into the tent though, Sam shoved his brother onto his side and Dean whined and snorted, but at least stopped snoring. Cas and Sam both breathed a sigh of relief as they settled down in their own sleeping bags for another peaceful night in the woods.

~~~~~~~

Cas wasn't sure what woke him at first, but there was something making noise nearby that pulled him from sleep.

For a second he thought it might be Dean but the elder Winchester was sleeping soundly, mouth-breathing, but at least not snoring while he was curled up on his side. And Cas realized then that the noise he had heard was definitely coming from outside of the tent.

He wondered if Sam might have gone out to relieve himself, but upon inspection the younger Winchester was still in the tent too.

Cas then realized that it must be some kind of animal or…a monster.

He reached over for Sam first, and gripped his shoulder. The younger Winchester came awake instantly.

"What?" he asked.

"Shh, listen," Cas whispered.

Sam was still as they both listened to the shuffling of something that sounded very large and very close to the tent.

Sam sat up and Cas did the same, going to the tent flap. Sam had a flashlight and began to unzip the flap.

That noise disturbed Dean and he came to with a snort, sitting bolt upright. "Whasit?" he slurred.

"Shh," Sam hissed as the sounds stopped. Dean was instantly on the alert as well and pulled his gun from the bag that he had been sleeping on.

Sam had gotten the tent flap open and peered out, Cas and Dean hovering behind him. Sam motioned to them to be quiet and then flipped the flashlight on, scanning the campsite.

A dark shadow came into view, huge and furry and Cas' breath caught in his throat, before he saw it was a bear.

"Aw, man," Dean muttered, cocking his gun.

"Dean, just stay still," Sam hissed.

The bear seemed to have found the remains of the fish from dinner even though Sam had buried them, apparently there was still enough of a smell for a bear to find though. But it had stopped its exploration when it caught sight of Sam's flashlight, looking unsure of how to proceed.

The three hunters held their breath, wondering what would happen next, when there was a sound further in the woods and the bear seemed to not like it at all. It turned toward the tent and started toward the three hunters.

"Oh crap," Dean cried, and lifted his gun. "Loud noises scare these things, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

Without another word, Dean shot a round into the dark woods. The bear started and growled then charged blindly off to one side.

Unfortunately, that meant it got caught on part of the tent, tripping up the bear as it tried to make its retreat.

The tent lurched and several of the poles twanged, collapsing the whole thing on top of the three men and the bear.

A frantic struggle ensued as all participants tried to fight free. Dean was shouting, Cas got an elbow in the nose, and Sam was trying to be the voice of reason, until someone's flailing limb caught him in the groin.

Eventually, they realized that the bear had managed to extricate itself and was long gone into the woods. Unfortunately, the three of them were tangled in the collapsed tent, caught in a pile of tent poles, sleeping bags and errant limbs.

Sam groaned, curled up tight, and Cas' nose dripped blood onto Dean's shoulder since he'd somehow managed to collapse on top of both the Winchesters. In retrospect it had probably been his knee in Sam's crotch.

"I'm gonna say it again," Dean growled. "I friggin' hate camping."

At that moment, Sam and Cas had to silently agree.

~~~~~~

The next morning, they packed up the thrashed tent and the rest of their stuff and trooped back down to the trailhead, Cas with a bruised nose, and Sam with a limp since extricating the tent had caused him to twist his ankle. Dean didn't speak a word to them until they got back to the parking lot at the trailhead and he saw that the Impala was untouched by the ravages of granola-munching hipsters in their Priuses.

"Aw, Baby, you are a sight for sore eyes," Dean said with a grin, running his hand over the car's hood before they chucked their luggage into the trunk.

"What do you say we hit a diner on the way out, and have a hot meal that's not cooked over a campfire?" Dean asked.

"That was actually the good part of the trip," Sam muttered as he eased into the passenger seat.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, okay, so overall, I guess it wasn't as sucky as I thought it would be."

Cas smiled slightly at that.

"But next time, we're going to the fricken' beach," Dean added as he started the car.

"Okay, Dean, next time," Sam said.

Well, if nothing else, their tent fiasco would make them glad to get back to the bunker.


	27. Cas Has a Bad Hair Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set during season 9
> 
> This was another request from Mika who prompted Cas and haircutting. This is what came to mind. Hope you enjoy! ^_^

Being human came with quite a few inconveniences, Castiel had to admit. Not only did he have to remember to eat before his stomach felt sick and angry, and manage somehow to sleep even though he'd spent millennia doing anything but, he also had to manage such mundane things as personal hygiene. Like showering, brushing his teeth, and shaving the beard that would not stop growing now.

Shaving took some practice and a lot of times of getting nicked with the razor before he could do it smoothly.

And like his beard, his hair also kept growing. He truthfully hadn't taken much notice to it himself—yes he was aware it was getting a little longer, starting to get in his eyes, curling around his ears, but he didn't really think too much of it until Dean had commented on it one morning at breakfast.

"Dude, you gonna grow your hair out like Samantha over here, or what?"

Cas frowned and ran a hand self-consciously through his hair. "Is it bad?"

Sam shot Dean a bitchface. "Dean, shut up." he turned back to Cas. "It's not bad if you like it, Cas. But if you do want to get it cut, that's fine too."

"Oh," Cas said, considering it. "I didn't think about it. It is getting rather long." And harder to comb out without tangles.

"Well, let us know if you need any help with it," Dean told him and stood up to put his cereal bowl in the sink. "Because one sister running around the bunker is enough."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Need anything when I run into town?" Dean asked them.

"Actually, I'm gonna come with you and look for something in the library," Sam told him, standing up.

Dean narrowed a look at him. "What, not enough books here to amuse your geeky little brain?"

Sam shot him the second bitchface of the morning. "We don't have novels, and there's some new ones that have come out I want to read."

Dean groaned, his turn to roll his eyes. "Ugh, fine. You coming, Cas?"

"I think I'll stay here, thanks," Cas told them, still enjoying his morning coffee. He didn't feel like rushing off on a day he didn't have to.

"Okay, see you later."

The Winchesters left and Cas almost breathed a sigh of relief in the silent bunker. Of course he didn't mind living with Sam and Dean, but sometimes he enjoyed the solitude.

Besides, he kind of wanted to think about getting his hair cut.

Undecided about what to do, he pulled out Sam's laptop and searched hair cuts on the internet. He wondered if he should just cut it back to where it was before, or if he should try something different. But then, looking at some of the ridiculous styles that ranged from teenagers with their hair hanging in their eyes—which didn't seem practical for hunting at all—to something called a Mohawk that looked like it might scare off anything in the vicinity, good or bad, he decided to stick to something more simple. Besides, Sam and Dean never did anything crazy with their hair so he probably shouldn't either. Dean would just be likely to tease him incessantly about it.

During his searching he found that some people made videos on how to cut your own hair. Cas watched several of them and they all seemed simple enough. He figured Dean and Sam must do the same because he had never heard them mention that they were going to a barber shop and Dean's hair especially always seemed to stay the same length.

How hard could it be, really?

With that last thought before diving into the breach, Cas carried the laptop to one of the bathrooms and searched around before he found the tools he would need. Dean's electric razor that came with several attachments for cutting hair, a comb, and a pair of scissors, to cut it down a little.

Cas looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. "Well, the only way is to try it," he said to himself.

He started the video again and began to do his best to follow the instructions from the man in it. He combed his hair forward first and began to trim it down a little with the comb and the scissors before moving to the back. That was trickier and he frowned in concentration as he tried his best to contort himself to reach the back of his head well enough to trim it, while also being able to see what he was doing in the mirror.

By the time he had gotten halfway, he realized that having a second mirror would be good, so he grabbed a small mirror from another part of the bunker and propped it up behind him on a shelf, facing the other mirror.

Now that he could see the back of his head, though, he realized he hadn't done a very good job on it. At all. For that matter, the front of his hair was beginning to stick up at weird angles, some longer, some shorter, and looking completely patchy. He frowned, wondering how he had gone so wrong.

He began to try and fix it up, but it just made it worse. Frustrated, Cas set down the scissors and picked up the electric razor, and applied it to the side of his head.

It carved out a patch of hair that went down nearly to his scalp. Cas' eyes blew wide and he quickly turned the razor off.

"Well, that certainly didn't work," he said, evaluating his image in the mirror.

He looked like he had gotten attacked by a bunch of pixies who had decided to make a nest out of his hair. It was sticking up in uneven patches everywhere, and now there was the bare spot on the side of his head…

What was worse, he had spent so much time with his poor attempts that Sam and Dean were sure to be back soon, and Cas didn't want them—especially Dean, who would laugh at him—to see his hair like this.

He quickly began to clean up, and decided to find a way to hide his hair until he could fix it, maybe that night while they were asleep.

After he cleaned up his mess in the bathroom, trying his best to hide the evidence, he hurried into his room, digging through drawers before he came up with a soft knit hat he didn't know he had. Thankful, though, he pulled it over the mess he had created on the top of his head and went to sit in the library to look at the laptop again, wondering where he had gone wrong.

Cutting hair was a lot harder than it had looked online.

~~~~~~~

Dean and Sam hauled groceries into the bunker while Dean glanced over at the stack of books Sam had propped on one arm.

"Seriously, dude, when are you even going to get to read those?"

"Between hunts, we do actually have time for some relaxation, and I don't waste my time watching cartoon smut."

"Anime!" Dean quipped as he shouldered his way into the bunker. "And whatever, I don't care what you do with your hobbies. I'm just not looking forward to the book club you and Cas always form when you get into reading fits."

"You know, you can always join us, Dean," Sam said.

Dean snorted and unloaded the groceries in the kitchen. "We're back, Cas!"

He walked through to the library and saw the ex-angel sitting at the table, closing Sam's laptop hurriedly. Dean raised an eyebrow. "You better not be watching porn on Sam's computer, he always thrown a…" He stopped, frowning as he registered that something was off and then realized what it was. Cas watched him with all-too-innocent eyes—right below a dorky beanie hat.

"Dude, what's with the hat?" he asked.

Cas frowned. "I can't wear a hat?"

Dean narrowed his eyes back. "No it's just…never seen you wear one before. Didn't know you had one." Though maybe he'd borrowed it from Sam, it looked like the kind of thing the nerdy kid would wear.

"Well, it's cold in here," Cas said and stood up. "Need help putting the groceries away?"

Dean just walked over, reaching out a hard to grab the hat. Cas ducked away and tried to make it to the kitchen, but the avoidance just egged Dean on.

"Dude, seriously, what's with the hat?" he said again.

"Leave it, Dean," Cas nearly growled as he shoved past the elder Winchester.

"Yeah, sure," he said, then feinted at the ex-angel— skilled with long years of older brother-hood—and snagged the hat off Cas' head with his other hand. Cas made a grab for it, but too late; he lost the hat and Dean saw what it had been hiding.

"What…the hell?" he said and then began chuckling. His chuckles turned into a full-blown laugh as Cas proceeded to fold his arms over his chest and glare at him.

"This isn't funny, Dean!" he said.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, coming into the library with his stack of books before stopping as he watched Dean point at Cas' mutilated head. Cas shot a pleading look at Sam for some assistance.

"Whoa, Cas, what happened?" Sam asked. "Did you…try to cut your hair?"

"Yes, I watched a video online," Cas said in defeat. "It didn't turn out the way it did for the man in the video."

That just made Dean laugh louder. He bent double, hands on his knees, before he straightened up and tried to sober, knowing he shouldn't laugh too much at Cas.

"Ah, yeah, never follow hair-cutting instructions online," he said and wiped his eyes. "Let me see the damage." He stepped forward and took Cas by the shoulder, spinning him around. It was choppy, but not unfixable, except—oh yeah—that shaved spot was gonna be a bit problematic.

"I've seen worse," he said. "You should have seen what happened when I left Sammy with a pair of scissors when he was little."

"Hair grows back, Cas," Sam assured him. "You should have just asked us for help though."

"Yeah, even Sammy and I usually give each other cuts," Dean offered. He pushed Cas toward the dormitory wing then. "Come on, let's go fix you up."

Cas' shoulders sagged a bit. "Thank you."

"No problem, I'll even show you how I do it, so if you have to cut your hair yourself for whatever reason in the future, you won't have so many issues."

He grabbed a chair, put it in the bathroom and sat Cas down on it. He picked up the electric razor and rooted through its attachments. "First of all, you need a differed attachment to keep your hair longer," he said and fixed the one he had selected in place. He began to carefully and efficiently trim up the fronts of Cas' hair and then moved to the back, with a shorter attachment, explaining what he did as he went.

When he was done, he'd pretty much erased all of Cas' hack job. Even the shaved spot was less noticeable now that he had given him a cut that was short on the sides and longer on the top, similar to his own.

"There you go," he said as Cas peered at his hair in the mirror. "It will grow back out to your usual length in a couple weeks so don't worry too much if you don't like it."

Cas smiled. "Thank you, Dean. I do appreciate it."

"Any time," Dean said with a grin as he put the hair stuff away. "Now, if I can only get Sammy to cut his hair like this."

"I heard that!" Sam called from further in the bunker. "Not a chance, Dean!"

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. They'd see what happened on April Fool's when Sam decided to use his fancy shampoo…


	28. Trouble Saves the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set Season 9. It's also another one from Trouble's POV

It started off as just a normal day. Trouble's home was quiet and he had complete control over it because Cas and his littermates had gone away again for a few days as they did on a lot of occasions. He just hoped that this time the Tall One and the Grumpy One would make sure his Cas didn't get hurt. Otherwise, he would make sure they paid—and he had plenty of ideas on how to do that.

But they got back safe and sound and Trouble ran to greet His Human, nearly tripping up the Grumpy One as he did so, as Cas came in the door.

"Damn cat," the Grumpy One muttered as he and the Tall One maneuvered something into the bunker, a large box with strange markings on it. They set it down beside the table with a thump and more angry words. Trouble instantly had to go over and inspect it. He scratched at it slightly, and sniffed it. The smell was nasty and burned his nose so he hissed and arched his back, jumping back a pace before he was lifted into the air by Cas. He gave a meow of protest, not having finished in inspection—even though he had already come to the conclusion that he didn't like the box at all.

"Don't play with that, Trouble, it's holding something very dangerous," Cas told him. Trouble, though curious as always, was, at that moment, just happy to have His Human back and purred as he rubbed his head against Cas' chin.

"What are we gonna do with it?" the Tall One asked.

"Lock it deep in storage," the Grumpy One said. "I don't want to have that thing running around ever again. We barely got out of there alive."

"Good idea," the Tall One agreed, sounding tired. "I'll see if we can clear a spot in the lock room, but first I want to eat, I'm starving."

Troubled mrowed in agreement with that. He was hungry too. He wiggled out of Cas' arms and sped into the kitchen to sit by his food bowl, waiting as Cas poured his dinner into it.

"There you go, eat up, Trouble," his human told him and Trouble licked his hand in thanks and began to eat.

After dinner, Trouble watched while Cas and his littermates moved the strange box into another room and set it on a shelf.

"There, that should be the end of that," the Tall One said.

"Thank god," the Grumpy One muttered. "Now I don't know about you, but I am shot. I'm gonna hit the sack."

"Me too," the Tall One yawned.

"Me three," Cas agreed. Troubled meowed to say he too agreed. No matter how many naps he'd taken that afternoon, he was still glad to have another.

They all left for the sleeping rooms and Trouble did the same, sitting on his and Cas' bed and licking himself while Cas washed in the room where it rained. Then it was time for bed, and Trouble was glad to have His Human back with him. Sure, it was nice to have the bed all to himself, but he liked it best with Cas was home and safe. He purred and curled up in his usual spot by Cas' shoulder.

"Goodnight, Trouble," Cas said before turning off the light.

Trouble mrowed and went to sleep.

~~~~~~

Trouble woke later because something felt wrong.

He sat up, looking around the room, as his fur began to stand on end. Something in the bunker felt very wrong and evil. He quickly bent to lick Cas to see if he was all right, but His Human only grumbled and pushed him away with a hand, not waking up. Trouble gave a noise of annoyance but leapt off the bed, slipping out the door. If no one else saw that there was something wrong, he supposed he was going to have to investigate it himself.

As soon as he was out in the dark hall, he heard a rattling sound coming from deeper in the bunker. Curious, he went to investigate. Perhaps it was a mouse or a bird again—he still remembered the ridiculous fuss everyone had made over the bird, but the Grumpy One had gotten hurt and angry, so Trouble still did find that incident amusing.

However, as he got closer to the sound, he found his way to one of the storage rooms and realized that this was no mere vermin.

Trouble hissed at the sight as he watched the box the humans had brought home earlier rattle and shift on the shelf where they had put it. Trouble yowled at it from where he stood, trying to tell it who was boss around here, and it stopped for a minute, before it started the movements again, much to his chagrin.

Trouble strode into the room, angry at the box for disturbing his perfectly good rest, then leapt back suddenly as it fell to the floor with a crash. It cracked and dark green smoke began to eek from it, oozing up into a form that was vaguely human. Trouble however, was not stupid. He could tell there was nothing human about this thing.

He hissed again, crouching in a threatening position to show this thing he meant business. It glanced in his direction, gave a hiss itself, before it disappeared almost angrily in a puff of smoke.

Trouble leapt back, not liking how fast it was. He thought perhaps it was gone now, but something in the bunker was still making his hair stand on end, and he knew that the moving shadow was still there somewhere.

Then he had a terrible thought. Cas had said whatever was in the box was dangerous, what would happen if the shadow found His Human asleep?

Trouble raced back down the hallway to his and Cas' room, when a shout came from the Tall One's room as well as another sound that set Trouble's hair on end.

"Sammy!" The Grumpy One was slamming out of his own room, in the hall in an instant, Cas doing the same.

"What is it?" Cas asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes, but he had his shiny blade in his hand and Trouble leapt over to mrow at him insistently, wishing that His Human could understand him as well as he could them.

"I don't know, but his door won't open! Sam!" The Grumpy One was slamming his shoulder in the door of the Tall One's room and Cas began to help. Trouble paced anxiously, hearing bad sounds from the other side of the door.

Finally they got it open and Trouble ran inside with them, seeing the Tall One struggling with the sheets on his bed as they wrapped around his neck.

"What the hell?" the Grumpy One shouted as he and Cas instantly leapt forward and began yanking on the sheets, trying to force them from around the Tall One's neck.

Trouble was the only one who saw the bad shadow hovering in the corner of the room, watching with a wicked, satisfied smirk on its face. Trouble leapt at it with a snarl. The thing turned toward the cat and made that hissing sound again, sweeping away through the door.

"Okay, okay, breathe, Sammy," the Grumpy One was saying as he and Cas finally finished untangling the Tall One from the sheets that were normal again.

"D'n," the Tall One gasped.

"What the hell happened?"

The Tall One shook his head, still breathing raggedly and rubbing his throat. "Don't know. Woke up… like that."

Trouble yowled and swatted at the hem of Cas' pant leg to get his attention. Cas looked down briefly but seemed more focused on the Tall One. Trouble wasn't having that and hissed, digging his claws into Cas, something he never did.

"Ow! Trouble, stop!" Cas snapped. But Trouble was determined. He swatted at Cas again, though more gently, and then ran to the door, waiting for him to notice.

"Dude, what's up with your cat? He's mental," the Grumpy One said. Trouble hissed at him, and took several more steps into the hall, hoping the dense humans would get the hint and follow him.

"Dean," the Tall One said, as he got shakily to his feet. "You know how animals are more in-tuned to the Supernatural? I think Trouble might know what's going on."

Trouble meowed a bit smugly. At least the Tall One was smart.

The Grumpy One rolled his eyes. "Seriously? What could have even gotten in here?"

Trouble yowled and began down the hall whether they wanted to follow him or not. They thought they were hunters but he was a better hunter than all of them, obviously.

"Trouble!" Cas called and began to follow him.

Trouble could heard the others, the Grumpy One muttering to himself, as Trouble led them to the storage room, standing firmly by the broken box. Cas got there and stopped short as he saw it.

"Sam, Dean," he said in a hushed voice as his littermates joined him.

"Son of a bitch," the Grumpy One said angrily as he saw it. "I thought that was supposed to hold a witch's spirit!"

"It is," Cas said as he strode over to inspect the box better. "But this one is damaged, look." He pointed out a hairline crack on the bottom, cutting through one of the strange symbols carved there. Trouble wasn't sure what that meant, but figured it had something to do with why the evil shadow was wreaking havoc in his home.

"And that's what we get for using old equipment," the Grumpy One sighed darkly. "Alright, well, I guess we have to hunt this bitch down again before she tries to kill us in our sleep."

The Tall One gave him a look and the Grumpy One returned it with another eye roll. "I'll get the guns."

"Sam and I will see about transferring these symbols to a new box," Cas said and crouched down.

Trouble wasn't so sure guns would work though. He had seen how that shadow had acted around him. Perhaps it didn't like cats. A ridiculous thought, but it could be useful in this instance.

The Tall One found another box, and then he and Cas set about carving symbols into it, making it look like the other one. Trouble watched, wishing they would hurry up as he wanted to go back to sleep.

They were about halfway done when they heard the Grumpy One shout, followed by a crashing sound.

"Dean!" The Tall One cried, surging to his feet.

"You go, I'll finish this," Cas told him urgently.

The Tall One hurried out of the room as Cas began working faster.

There were more sounds of struggle out in the bunker and Trouble didn't like the sound of it. He didn't like the bad smell of the shadow either. It felt like it was getting more powerful. He also didn't want anything to happen to Cas' littermates—even if he and the Grumpy One didn't always get along.

Everything went silent then. Cas paused in his work. "Sam, Dean?" he called.

Trouble's fur stood on end again, and he looked up to see the shadow hovering in the doorway. Cas also saw it and drew his blade. Trouble hissed and the shadow hesitated slightly, but then surged into the room, cackling as it went straight for Cas.

Trouble didn't have time to react before the shadow slammed into Cas and sent him tumbling into the nearby shelves, taking several more boxes down with him as he fell with a grunt.

Trouble was furious. How dare this shadow hurt His Human? He snarled and leapt at the thing, slashing with his claws at its incorporeal robe. It shrieked, with a terrible sound as it spun around on the cat.

"Trouble, no!" Cas called, getting to his feet. He raised his blade but instead of slashing at the shadow with it, he cut his hand and dripped it into a nearby bowl, saying strange words.

The shadow whipped around toward him, and shrieked angrily. It lunged forward as Cas reached for some strong smelling ingredients for the bowl but Trouble wasn't having that. That thing would not attack His Human again. It raised a hand, with sharp claws on it, and Trouble climbed onto a shelf to leapt at it over Cas' shoulder, clawing at the shadow and feeling something tear under his claws.

The shadow let out another ear-piercing shriek of anger and hopefully pain, before it swung its arm, catching Trouble firmly midair and slamming him into the shelves.

The last thing Trouble heard before he blacked out was an explosion, and another shriek before the sound of the box slamming closed.

~~~~~~

Murmuring voices woke him. He was warm and it smelled familiar, like home where he was, obviously, even though Trouble was sure it shouldn't smell quite so normal. Remembered that something had been wrong. His Cas had been in danger…

He surged up with a hiss but pain ripped through his body and hands stilled him as more voices spoke.

"Hold him, I'm almost done."

"Trouble, shhh, just stay still." His Cas. Trouble relaxed slightly. At least he was okay, even if his voice was strained and he smelled of worry.

Trouble looked up to see the Grumpy One, a bandage taped to one side of his head, leaning over him doing something to his side that hurt. Trouble tried to twist again, yowling in pain, but Cas' hands stroked his head and kept him still again.

"Shh, almost done," Cas told him. Trouble mewed, disgusted with himself for how weak he sounded, and turned to lick His Human's hand to let him know he was okay.

"There," the Grumpy One muttered as he sat back. Cas finally let Trouble go and he twisted to lick at the hurt spot, finding strange black bands over the wound there that seemed to be keeping it together, but worst of all….he had no fur around the spot.

He hissed and lashed a paw out at the Grumpy One, catching his hand as he tried to put the things he had been poking Trouble with away.

"Ow! Hey, I stitched you up, you ungrateful little hairball! You should be glad we didn't take you to the vet or they would threaten to cut your nuts off again."

Trouble mrowed indignantly. They most certainly would not. Not if he had anything to do with it. He went back to licking his wound before Cas took hold of him, bundling him in the towel he had been lying on and pulling him gently into his arms.

"He'll be alright," the Grumpy One told Cas gruffly. "Nothing too serious."

"Thank you, Dean," he said to the Grumpy One as he looked down at Trouble. "You were very brave, Trouble. You held that spirit witch off long enough for me to finish the spell."

"Yeah, you were brave, Trouble," the Tall One said as he came up and scratched Trouble between the ears and then set a saucer of milk on the table in front of him. Trouble leaned forward to lap some of it up.

"I guess she really had a thing about cats," the Grumpy One said. "Odd, considering she was a witch and all."

"Not all witches have cats Dean," the Tall One said with a huff. "Or like them. I think we were lucky that she didn't, otherwise she probably would have been a lot harder to get back in that box the second time around."

"Well, whatever. At least now she should be contained. But we are locking that thing up in an iron room just to be safe. We really need to think about having a vault in here."

"I agree," Cas said, still stroking Trouble gently. "The bunker is supposed to be safe. We shouldn't be afraid to go to sleep at night, worried that our sheets are going to strangle us."

"Agreed," the Tall One said, rubbing his bruised neck. "But the witch is secure now, and I think we should try to get some sleep for what's left of the night."

"Yes, Trouble is probably tired," Cas said. Trouble tried to pretend he wasn't but he was, and he hurt from his injuries. Snuggling up in the big, soft bed was the only thing he really wanted to do just then.

The Grumpy One snorted. "Get your cat to bed then," he said, then glanced down at Trouble, lowering a finger to him. "And you…no scratching at those stitches, or I'm putting a cone on you."

Trouble batted his finger, but didn't use his claws this time. He was too tired, and he simply allowed Cas to carry him back to their room and settle him on a pillow. It took Trouble a moment to get comfortable, and he licked his wound a few more times, still annoyed about the shaved fur, but stopped after that. There was no way the grumpy One was going to put a cone on him.

Cas stroked his head a few more times. "Thank you again, Trouble," he said. "I think we would have been a lot worse off without you here."

Trouble purred and rubbed his head into Cas' palm before settling down and closing his eyes. Cas stroked him several more times before he lay down and turned the lights off.

Of course Trouble had saved the day. Didn't he always? The human's just didn't realize how much he really did for them.

He hoped there would be more milk for him tomorrow.


	29. Cas Wages War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is set in Season 9

Dean grunted in frustration as he shuffled things around in his desk drawer. How the hell had all this stuff gotten in there anyway? It wasn't like he used half of it.

After unearthing multiple things he'd completely forgotten about, including a half eaten candy bar, he still hadn't found the one thing he'd been looking for to begin with. How hard was it to find a hole-punch? And a better question: why was he looking for one first thing in the morning?

He decided it just wasn't that important to him anymore—Sam would just have to punch his own holes—and began to shove the pile of junk back into the drawer when something else he didn't know was in there caught his eye.

Dean picked up the small packet. Itching powder. He grinned; it had been a long time since he'd used that on anyone. He must have bought it in anticipation for surprising Sam at some point, but had obviously forgotten about it. Well, no time like the present. They hadn't had a case for over two weeks now and they were all going stir-crazy. Hence why he was helping Sam file crap. He was kind of desperate.

Dean smirked as he left his room, glancing around and hearing Sam banging around in the kitchen getting breakfast—also apparently having given up his filing venture.

He was about to go to his younger brother's room when he heard the sound of the shower running and then saw that Cas' door was invitingly open. Dean glanced toward the shower room and then back to Cas' with a sudden thought. He'd pranked Sam with itching powder multiple times, he'd know what it was instantly, and though it would he hilarious to watch him realize what Dean had done, it would be a lot more fun to see Cas have absolutely no clue why he was itching so much.

Deciding there was no way he was passing up this opportunity, Dean slipped into Cas' room and found his clean clothes laid out nicely on the bed. Dean glanced over his shoulder once to make sure Sam wouldn't come along and ruin it, before he opened the itching powder and carefully sprinkled some of it inside Cas' t-shirt and, yep, even in his underwear. If you were gonna commit to a prank, you had to do it right.

Dean carefully tried to put the clothes back as he had found them as he heard the shower turn off. He hastily retreated from the room and started back down the hall toward the library, trying to wipe the grin from his face as the shower room door opened and Cas emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Good morning, Dean," the ex-angel said.

"Hey, Cas," Dean replied biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't start laughing. "Fresh coffee in the kitchen."

Cas nodded and Dean beat a hasty retreat, snickering to himself as he went to grab his own breakfast.

Sam looked up from a book he was reading at the kitchen table, frowning at his brother. "What?"

"Nothin'," Dean replied and grabbed a bowl for cereal.

Sam shook his head and went back to his book.

Cas entered a couple minutes later and Trouble instantly came to greet him before moving pointedly toward his food bowl in the corner.

"Hold on, Trouble," Cas said and grabbed the food, measuring it out and filling the bowl. Trouble mrowed happily and set to eating. Cas put the bag of food aside and frowned as he scratched under his arm. Dean quickly turned to stare at his cereal, taking a huge bite.

Cas got a cup of coffee and his own bowl of cereal and went to sit down at the table across from Dean.

"Any plans today?" he asked and frowned slightly again, shifting on the seat. Dean took a deep sip of his coffee.

"Uh, not really. Sam is trying to organize more of the library research stuff. I'm probably gonna make a run to the grocery store, so let me know if you need anything."

Cas reached below the table and his face scrunched up as he wiggled in his seat a bit. "Um, no, I think I'm okay."

Dean nearly lost it every time Cas went to scratch, looking more and more perturbed, but he was a professional so he kept his cool. The ex-angel was starting to wiggle around so much though that Sam finally glanced over at him.

"You okay, Cas?" he asked.

"Fine," Cas snapped and he stood up to take his bowl to the sink. He started to wash it then had to stop to scratch at his stomach with a wet hand, grunting a bit. He quickly left the room as soon as he was done washing his bowl and Dean got up to do the same.

"Need anything at the store Sammy? More fancy shampoo?" Dean asked his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes. "No, Dean, I'm fine. Just grab some fruit and vegetables for once, okay? You can't live off bacon!"

Dean snorted but was interrupted as Cas came hurrying back into the kitchen, fingers scrabbling all over his body now.

"Hey, what's up?" Dean asked as innocently as possible.

"Something's wrong," Cas grunted, twisting and trying to dig his fingers into his armpit and between his shoulder blades at the same time. "I can't stop the itching!"

Sam stood up with a frown. "Did you use a new soap or something?"

"No, the same one I always do!" Cas cried and growled as he scratched at his ribs. "It's infuriating!"

"Where exactly do you itch?" Sam asked.

"All over!" Cas snapped then let out a distressed growl and was forced to scratch his crotch. Dean had to cough to hide his smirk.

"Even there?" he asked.

"Yes, even there!" Cas cried then noticed the hunter smiling. "Dean! This isn't funny! It could be a curse!"

That broke through Dean's 'professional' exterior and he folded in half, laughing uproariously.

"Dean!" Sam snapped. "Seriously?"

"I'm sorry, I can't, it's just too good!" Dean got out between laughs, wiping his eyes. "Don't worry, it's nothing serious."

"Wait," Sam glanced between Cas, still scratching desperately, and his laughing brother and seemed to put two-and-two together. He gave an exasperated sigh. "Oh my god, Dean, you didn't put itching powder in his clothes."

Dean only grinned with a snort. "I did!" and then he started to laugh harder.

Cas gave him a look of betrayal and Sam grabbed the ex-angel's arm, steering him back toward the dormitory ward. "Why are you perpetually five?" Sam demanded with a longsuffering look. "Come on, Cas, just go take a rinse off in the shower. I'll grab you some clean clothes that I'll make sure Dean doesn't touch."

Dean worked on calming his laughter. Sure, it had been a mean prank, but the look on Cas' face… Priceless!

Sam came back a few moments later with a bitchface, arms crossed over his chest. "Come on, man, I know we're all stir crazy, but you don't have to torture Cas."

"Stop being so protective," Dean said. "Cas can handle a little pranking here and there, he's a big boy."

Sam shook his head, but looked up as Cas reappeared in clean clothes, his brow still furrowed.

Sam cast Dean a look and the older man finally sighed. "Alright, fine. Cas, no hard feelings, right?"

The ex-angel just shook his head. "No, Dean, of course not."

Both Sam and Dean looked at him with a little surprise. Sam looked like he was going to say something but Dean shrugged. "Well, okay then. I guess I'm going to the store now."

He grabbed his jacket and headed out to the garage.

As soon as he was gone, Sam turned to Cas. "You know Dean's just a jerk and he means it all in good fun."

Cas smiled slightly as he bent to pick up Trouble who was rubbing against his legs. "I am aware of the custom of pranking. Humans aren't the only ones who do it. After all, Gabriel was my older brother."

Sam chuckled slightly, shrugging in acknowledgement.

"So," Cas said. "I believe retribution is part of it, correct?"

Sam grinned, seeing where the angel is going. "Typically, yeah."

Cas grinned back. "Then I think we have some planning to do."

~~~~~~~

Dean woke up the next morning and turned his alarm off before he rolled out of bed with a yawn. He rubbed his eyes and went to the shower room stripping out of his sleep clothes and stepping into the shower once the water got to be the right temperature. He sighed in contentment as he felt the hot water wash over him. He decided that today he was going to put in an extra effort to find a case, even if it was just something remotely weird. The only thing he was sure of was that he was not going to get roped into another day of filing. Yuck.

He thought he heard the door to the room open and frowned, hands in his sudsy hair. "Sam?" he called.

There was no answer though, so he shrugged it off and finished washing up.

He stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel and coming away with just a washcloth. Dean cast around the room, looking for more towels and saw none. Okay, he was sure he had put one within reach…

He dried off as much as possible with the tiny washcloth and then glanced down at the spot his sleep clothes had been, figuring he could just throw his pajama pants on again, but…they weren't there.

"Son of a bitch," he growled, knowing now that Sam or Cas had come in here after all. Maybe one of them was on a laundry kick and had taken his clothes. And his clothes. And all the towels.

Dean huffed as he covered himself as much as he could with the washcloth and hurried from the shower room to his own room. He tossed the washcloth aside and went to his drawers.

But when he opened them he cursed again. What. The. Hell.

The only thing left in his drawers were the pair of cutoffs (the short ones) that he wore when he washed the car, and a pink t-shirt he had never seen before that had been cut into a crop top. Alright, if this is how they were gonna play it…

Dean put the shorts on, and grabbed the pink crop top before storming out of his room.

"Sam!" he cried. "This isn't funny! Where the hell are my clothes?"

Snickering could be heard from the library and he stormed in there, only to be met by a flash.

"Say cheese!" Sam grinned, holding up his phone to take another picture.

"Dude, what the hell? Stop taking pictures!" Dean snarled, lunging forward to wrestle with Sam for the phone. Another flash came from behind them and Dean spun around to see Cas holding up his own phone.

"Really, you too?"

Cas shrugged with a small smile. "At least it wasn't itching powder, Dean."

"You guys suck," Dean grunted, throwing the pink shirt at Sam. "Alright, I get it. I yield," he added, holding up his hands.

Sam and Cas shared a look. "What do you think?" Sam asked.

"Well, it was amusing, but…" Cas cast a look at Dean's outfit, or rather, lack thereof, making a face.

Sam cringed. "Yeah, we're gonna have to look at him dressed in that all day. I mean, that's more punishment for us."

"Oh, funny," Dean snorted, folding his arms self-consciously across his still damp bare chest.

"Okay," Cas gave in and motioned to a laundry basket set against the bookshelves. Dean went over to it and grabbed his clothes, heading back to his room to change.

Sam and Cas grinned at each other and laughed. "Phase one complete," Sam whispered.

~~~~~~~

Dean threw his pile of clothes on his bed and grabbed his jeans and a t-shirt and flannel. He combed his still wet hair into some semblance and then reached for his deodorant.

He knew something was wrong the instant it touched his armpit. It was cold and slimy.

"Ugh!" Dean cried and pulled it from under his shirt, inspecting the deodorant stick. It didn't look right, kind of yellow. He brought it to his nose.

"Butter? Seriously? Who does that?" he demanded and tugged his shirt off, wiping the greasy substance from his skin.

He stormed back out to the kitchen. "You guys know it's on you that I didn't put deodorant on today!"

"Don't worry, I got you a new one," Sam told him as Dean came into the kitchen and then motioned to a pastry box on the table. "Now that that's over, how about a doughnut?"

"Doughnuts?" Dean asked, eyeing the box skeptically.

Cas nodded and pushed the box over. "A peace offering."

Dean looked between them and then Trouble who was watching him with almost a smirk on his face.

He really should have listened to his better judgment and not taken a doughnut, but…doughnuts!

Dean sighed and sat at the table, picking up a cream-filled one. "Alright, well, thanks." He said and took a big bite.

He instantly spit it out, choking. "What the hell? Have these gone bad or something?"

Sam and Cas were laughing. Dean growled and threw the rest of the disgusting doughnut at his brother's head, which Sam dodged expertly. "That's disgusting!"

"Maybe you should try a jelly one instead," Cas said with such sincerity that, damn him, Dean actually picked one up and bit it.

Something salty filled his mouth and he got up and ran to the sink to spit. "Ugh! Ketchup? Really?"

"And mayonnaise," Cas added, nodding to the other discarded doughnut.

Dean growled at them and hurried to the fridge grabbing the orange juice and pouring a big glass. He'd already chugged a big mouthful of it before he was back at the sink spitting out the disgusting substance. "Oh my god, what is that?" he demanded, turning on the sink and rinsing his mouth out.

Sam and Cas were in stitches by now, the bastards. "It's the cheese powder from the box macaroni," Sam offered.

"That's disgusting!" Dean snapped, but all he got from them was continued laughter.

Finally, he grunted and shook his head. "Okay, okay, I get it. Warning accepted. Cas, I'm sorry I put itching powder in your clothes. I think we should all agree that a prank war between the three of us is a bad idea. But can we stop it right now before we end up burning the bunker down or something?"

Sam and Cas shared a look and shrugged. "I accept your apology, Dean," Cas said, still grinning. "Just don't forget it."

"Yeah, not likely to."

Sam's phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen. "Hey, looks like Jody found us a case."

"Thank god," Dean groaned. "Let's get out of here!"

"Also, she loves the new look, Dean."

"New look…?" Sam turned his phone around to show the text thread with the picture of Dean in the cutoffs, angrily waving the pink shirt. "You bastard!" Dean snarled.

"She wanted to know if you do parties."

"Screw you, bitch," Dean snapped and stormed off to his room to pack, reconsidering his truce already.

Once he was gone, Cas turned to Sam. "Should we tell him about how we distressed the seems in his pants?"

Sam hesitated, but grinned. "Nah, let's leave that for him to figure out himself."

Cas grinned in return and the two followed Dean out to the car.


End file.
